


Wavelet

by orphan_account



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Adonis POV, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe- Mermaid/Fisherman, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: And while those words settle, there is an inexplicable sense of calm that lulls him, takes him to this well-needed state of stillness he is glad for. He finds no feeling more comfortable than the flush of understanding that washes away his nerves. And while Narukami watches him with this unwavering, tender, hopeful, cautious gaze, he looks upward determined not to meet it. He does not want to find an answer in it.He has his own. Simple, like the message he has read.“Then, I would love you like I love myself, treat you with no less and no more than you deserve.”“But Adonis, do you love yourself?”A thoughtful pause, a reply just as candid as the one before it.“I have no reason to not.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just Let Me Die, Lord
> 
> Hello!! /throws confetti ive been working on this since like august and now im finally done I Am Free.
> 
> i like adoara and there's so little content here it makes me sad so instead of complaining i decided to kick my butt and write my own stuff, so here's my contribution: the cliché 'I let a beautiful sea creature kick it in my bathtub and things go exactly how you think it would.'
> 
> also this is my first fic for the enstars fandom omg hey yall

They own the sea.

Sovereign of the water; they own everything, from the surface only ever touched by the light of the sun and stars, to the dark ocean floor where anything and everything can be lost and never found. An entire world not meant for many, but still loved like it was, still home to undiscovered secrets, hidden entities, and boundless, unimaginable beauty.

All of it, it all belongs to them.

And because of this, because these creatures claim these waters and all that touch it, they are both revered and worshiped like deities, spited and hated like monsters by those who walk the land, and only the land, who wear and breathe the air, and live by the laws of the sky.

At night—when the moon is full and their world is at its coldest—is when they appear, when there is just enough light for one of them to stick their head above the surface of the water, and be seen by anyone who resides by the shore.

It is said, that if one were to look into the eyes of these creatures, long enough to name the color of its iris, they are forced into a trance they cannot escape. When gazes meet and eyes lock, they lock for good, call, beckon and lure the unfortunate soul into icy waters with a mystifying pull that only allows them to see those eyes and those eyes alone.

It is said, that if one were not able to fight such a trance, to break such a gaze—which, was never likely—they walk, and continue to do so until they disappear under protective, unforgiving waves. 

Their heart, taken by essence of allure and promise of love, snatched away by death’s hands. 

Hands that were hidden, yet very much within their sight, very much before their eyes.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Adonis was always indifferent to the ocean—still is. He holds no sort of intrigue, or reason to detest it.

He has no frets or worries, so long as he is not at sea when night arrives.

Many others had felt the same.

There is an unspoken agreement between those who live on land, and those who live in the sea. A line of respect that ensures the safety of both parties, and allows them to enjoy the waters.

Just not at the same time.

As a fisherman, this was easily ingrained in his head. Get up, go to work, and be home by sunset. Though, most times, he finished well before the sun fell.

This still holds true. Right now, he is just about done collecting his haul.

Otogari Adonis is a diligent man, quiet, stern, and reserved. He grew up with a strict father who taught him the meaning of strength and hard work, a mother who spoiled him in his shadow, and three sisters who have shaped and watered his desire to reach out and explore anything he had even the slightest interest in.

From an ordinary household came a humble, kind man. 

He became one of the most well-known people in his small town by the sea. With his father’s influence, he—despite the intimidating appearance—is easily respected and trusted throughout his community.

He is a man not familiar with surprises or a change of pace, he has known that very well from the moment he decided to inherit his father’s fishmonger, his boat, and all his gear. After becoming familiar with it at such a young age, his decision to carry on this tradition of catching and selling fish taught on to him by his father, which was taught onto him by his father, and so forth, was no difficult one.

Even with the teases from his sisters who deemed this practice to be dull, unsuited, for someone like him who possessed a great capacity for talent, even if he had no love of the ocean, Adonis stood by his choice, for what he really enjoyed were the people that relied on him. His neighbors who enjoyed his presence, who saw him everyday, gave their silent promise they would do business with him and only him because they admired his labor, his seriousness, and care. Even those who worked with his father had stayed behind when he left, felt assured with Adonis’s secondhand work ethics.

This relationship alone, that comes with such an admittedly tedious job, is very much worth the effort. It made him happy, content.

He is a man not familiar with surprises or a change of pace. So when he sees an issue with his boat’s net, he thinks nothing of it, and pulls it in manually along with its struggling crane.

So when he reels his haul in his boat, and finds something other than fish, he does not know how to react.

Perhaps that is why his heart starts racing at the sight of it, because he has no appropriate response.

Fair skin, blond hair, and a delicate face writhing beneath his net gets him out his initial shock, and quickly moving in to lend a hand.

A tail—which had gone unnoticed due to the shock until now—swats him away, prevents him from getting any closer. Adonis has to note, that even with the violent act just now, it still moves with grace. Dressed in vibrant scales of cyan and violet,—just as bright as the ones that draw up the underside of the creature's arm—it continues to move fluidly, as if still in the water.

“Do _not_ touch me.” A hiss, and a sway from the same tail that promises to swat again.

So Adonis obeys, watches quietly as the net is eventually removed and tossed aside.

“This is the absolute worst. First, I lose an earring in some awful current, and now I end up in a dirty fishing boat.”

Indigo meets gold.

“And it stinks.”

Adonis shifts uncomfortably at the glare.

“Well, on with it.”

“...”

“Do you know where you are?”

He nods.

“And do you know who sits in front of you?”

He shake his head.

Arms outstretched in a grand pose, with wrists a twirl and fingers in dance, a proud reveal of:

“Why, the supreme leader of the sea, of course.” leave rosy lips.

“So, what do you plan on doing now that you’ve gone and ruined my day?”

Adonis fall to knees immediately, and bows. Head pressed against the floor of the boat, he does not know what else to do but to go about this delicately, and comply with whatever intentions that face him. He is not scared. However, this fact does not get rid of the caution.

Adonis apologizes, but a giggle has him raise his head.

“Oh, you really believed me?”

“Huh?”

“You think there’s some hierarchy underwater?”

“I-”

“How gullible—you’re very gullible, you know that? It’s funny.”

“Funny...”

“But with a face like that, it’s cute, too. And I don't dislike people like you, not at all.”

“Cute?”

“Mhm.” The irritation that was once in the other’s face is gone, leaves no trace as if it was never there to begin with. This new face looks up at Adonis with a soft smile and hinted mischief. 

It is concerning.

Confused, does not even begin to describe what Adonis is feeling. This should not be happening at all. Daytime is the time he can use the sea as he pleases. For something like this to occur right now, for the rule to be broken, he is not sure what to make of it. 

And in spite of all the questions in his head right now, he cannot help but to be sucked into this banter. To be in a conversation like this, with something whose emotion seem to fluctuate fast, makes it difficult to determine the right way to respond to all of this.

“If… If I can say, I disagree.”

“With being gullible or being cute?”

“Ah, both? For one, I simply thought you had no reason to lie-”

“Now, why would you think that? Everyone knows all water-dwellers lie.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

“I see…”

Another giggle.

“I got you _again._ See? Very gullible, and very cute.”

“That was mean-spirited…”

“But now, you won’t disagree with me any more.”

“...”

Their eyes meet again. For some reason, this gaze in particular, cuts.

Adonis flinches this time, struck with enough sudden fear to turn away.

As if his mind was just read:

“Don’t be scared, it doesn't work like that.” 

He does not move.

“I’m serious. I won’t do a thing.”

Not a muscle.

Adonis hears a disapproving hum, then a splash as his boat rocks. It is only then does he finally look.

“I’ll leave you alone, then.” There is change in the voice he hears, in the delivery of those words. 

“I’m-”

“I want to see you again, though. Is that okay?”

“I’m not sure I-”

“Same time and place, let’s play some more tomorrow.”

Adonis shuffles to the edge of his boat, looks down.

“Play…?”

“Mmh, and this time, I’ll be nice-spirited, I’ll show you there’s nothing to be afraid of, so don’t be scared when I see you, okay?”

Before he could get a word out, a tail splashes water—in a way he could only assume as playfully—into the boat, and he is alone once more.

Adonis lets out a long exhale, unsure of how long he had been holding his breath, unable to compare this type of pressure from a single presence to anything he has felt before. It is hard to process something this sudden, if he really wanted to, he could pretend right now, that this did not happen at all.

It is surreal, and oddly exciting.


	2. Chapter 2

He decides not to go.

Adonis chooses to stay home, and if one were to ask for the reason why, he could not say. Even now, he still cannot properly name his feelings, no words seem to fit. That day, he met the very subject of countless stories and rumors he has heard since childhood. The fact that he was able to encounter something he would never have thought to come in contact with, simply goes beyond him.

Knowing he met this creature of the sea, knowing he was able to be so close to something so powerful, so stunningly gorgeous—it is a bit frightening. 

Yes, it is like fear, something akin to it, but not quite.

Adonis recalls the rapid heartbeats that resounded in his chest at the sight of fins and scales far too pretty and complexly placed to belong on any ordinary fish, his mouth going dry at eyes too deep and too keen for his own to look into. He remembers the childish cruelty that laced the laughter which had filled the space between them when things had gotten quiet. He remembers the promise to meet again, and if he were to be honest with himself for a second,

He actually does want to.

But is it not dangerous to see and feel so much at once? How does one contain an emotion they are not familiar with?

It is like fear, something very close to it, but not quite.

A feeling that conflicts with his desire, stunts his curiosity, and has hesitation dictate the very drive that would have had him out on that water again, waiting. 

Adonis lives in a cozy house by the beach—the closest thing to the shore. For the most part, he lives alone. A house once owned by his parents, with a more than perfect spot to dock his boat, did not come as an inheritance as a result of his profession, but more so as a gift to be shared between him and his sisters. Despite the house having been renovated and up-to-date, his sisters only ever visit a few times a year to say hello, have found new homes much better suited for their lifestyle to ever stay in such a small town like this.

So this home is mostly his, a home with a perfect view of an ocean he never really cared for.

A home so close to the water he refuses to touch at the moment.

As he sips his second cup of tea in his bed to settle his nerves, he starts to wonder if he would come to regret the decision he has made.

A series of knocks attack his door, and it startles him for a moment before he recognizes the energy behind it.

“Open please, open please, open, open, open please.” A voice sings. The exaggeration in that last ‘please’ confirm it.

“Ado-chan-senpai, open the door!”

Then, softly:

“Ah, you might be sleeping, huh?” An inhale.

Then, unfortunately, loudly:

“ _Ado-chan-senpai, it’s time to wake up!_ ” His door is assaulted with another barrage of knocks, Adonis nearly scrambles to open it and cease the possible second round of attacks.

“Tenma.”

He hums. “I woke you up! I make a pretty good alarm clock, huh?”

Tenma Mitsuru is a high school student and long-time neighbor. Adonis has known him for years. Since the boy’s father is also a fisherman, Adonis always had some sort of playmate—or rather, someone tiny to look after—when he was younger. He still remembers the day they first met, when Adonis, six years old, tagged along with his father to visit a workmate who was said to have a son of his own.

When he stood there, toy truck clenched in his right hand out of excitement for a new friend, he was overcome with confusion when met with a child far too young to form a decent sentence, and too old to sit still.

That day, he spent the entire visit on all fours, did anything to keep the child in one spot and entertained as their fathers conversed, shared drinks and stories, all while occasionally checking his mouth for bits and pieces of toys that had always found their way into it.

Since then, the two have bonded, and Adonis has formed a soft spot for the younger, and finds it much harder to scold him now than it was back then.

“I would say so.”

Tenma laughs and invites himself in, kicks off his shoes and shuffles his way into the kitchen.

Adonis sighs, closes the door and joins him. Tenma slips his backpack off and sets it on his counter.

“You weren’t at the store today, I was really surprised when I saw Sou-chan-senpai there instead… He said you weren't feeling well so I got _super_ worried. I had to get you a ‘get well soon’ gift, you know? So, look here.”

Tenma quickly opens up his backpack and pulls out something bizarre enough for Adonis to tilt his head in genuine concern.

“A watermelon-”

“A big, _juicy_ watermelon! The type that’s all bright red inside, and drips down your chin after just one bite!” He gives the melon a slap, grins. “I picked out the _best_ one, just for you.”

Tenma always had a very carefree smile; a big, bright one, one that would often shine onto anyone who saw it. Rather than contagious, it simply carried the ease and naivety found in most smiles of kids like him, was there to be adored and nothing more.

When Tenma looks at him, waiting for some touched response and maybe even a bit of praise, Adonis’s question of why a watermelon would be a suitable gift for someone feeling unwell, goes lost, and he accepts the fruit wholeheartedly. 

“Thank you, Tenma. I am sure a melon of this size will do me some good.”

He beams, eyes flashing a look that bounces from Adonis to the melon.

“Ah, I guess it’s not too late to eat it now, would you like some-”

Tenma cheers, is already making his way toward Adonis’s cupboard to fetch some paper towels for the two of them.

Adonis cuts two pieces, one big and one small.

“Here.”

Tenma reaches out excitedly.

“Ah—” he keeps it out of reach. “what will you do with the seeds?”

“I’ll jus’ spit them out!”

“Where?”

Tenma huffs, “ _in the trash._ ”

“Good boy.” He hands him his piece.

“You’re no fun, Ado-chan-senpai. The seeds are the best part. You get to spit them out like bullets! All, _pew-pew-pew-pew_ and stuff, you know?”

“While I do not disagree, it’s best to dispose of seeds properly, as to not make a mess, don’t you think so?”

Tenma says nothing more, and bites into slice. Adonis will assume he understands, and bites into his own.

Despite it being for a little while, the distraction was nice. But now, the same problem that had Adonis so distressed he could not even leave his own bed this morning, is preventing him from enjoying a simple snack.

He feels a little guilty.

He never made a promise, he never agreed to anything, but he never said ‘no’, and that is where his issue lies.

Is it that he is being misleading? That, even though he could justify his decision with ignorance, he would still feel as though he is in the wrong?

Perhaps, deep down, he really, truly would come to regret this.

That is, if he has not started already.

The _pit-pat_ like sound of Tenma spitting all his seeds into his rubbish bin with a quick succession pulls him from his thoughts. Adonis sighs, hands him another paper towel to wipe up the dribble collecting at his chin.

“Bullseye!” He says, accepts the paper to clean his face.

“Impressive.”

He laughs at the praise, climbs up on the counter to sit and revel in the after-taste of his treat, and pats his stomach.

“Tenma.”

“Hmm?”

“Where is Kanzaki, right now?” At the moment, what Adonis needed is some advice. And with a close friend like Kanzaki, who was kind enough watch over his store today, he might be the best person to get it from.

“Ah, this is the time you usually close up, right? Then Sou-chan-senpai should be where he always is!”

“Where he always is…?”

“You _know,_ at the dive shop! Swimming with the fishes!”

It soon clicks.

“Oh, that’s right, he is snorkeling.” He mumbles, Tenma simply nods.

“Yeah, yeah. When I saw him today, he kept lookin’ at his watch and stuff. I think he was in a hurry.”

“Is that so? Then it would be troublesome of me to bother him now.” Adonis puts a hand to his chin. 

Kanzaki is someone who likes the sea specifically for its wildlife. He dives, every day he sets time aside to spend a few hours underwater. To interrupt even a second more of that—despite the fact it was he who insisted on taking over for him today—might make Adonis feel worse than he already does. He will have to solve his problem on his own.

“Still, Ado-chan-senpai, this is something you should already know by now, isn’t it? You really must be sick.”

“I do not have a cold, really. Just a lot on my mind at the moment.”

“Oh, I get it. Sometimes, when there’s a lot on my mind, I think about it so, so, _so_ much that all of my little thoughts get pushed out of my head, and I end up forgetting them, because all I can think about is that _one_ thing. It’s huge!” He emphasizes that last word with arms stretched out as wide as he could make them, and eyes just as wide to match.

“I think that’s why you’re having a hard time remembering things,” He continues, swings his feet, “because they’re all _teeny-tiny_ compared to that one thought, they won’t fit in your head any more!”

“I… I see-”

“So you have to get rid of whatever’s on your mind, ‘cause you’ll start to forget more things, you know? Like how to swim or tie your shoes—” he gasps, “you could forget about _me._ ”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

Regardless, he gives him a serious look.

“Promise.”

“Huh?”

“Promise me you’ll get whatever’s on your mind, off of it, so you don’t forget any more stuff.”

Adonis sets his watermelon down, looks at him directly as if to test something.

“Tenma, if I were to break that promise, what would you do?”

Tenma frowns, complete with a protruded bottom lip and knitted brows.

“That would hurt a lot. _A lot,_ a lot. So bad… I would cry—the bad cry, too! The kind where my nose won’t stop running no matter what. So you better not, or else I’ll use all your shirts as tissues.” He warns.

Threat duly noted, Adonis nods.

“Then, I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> breh i aint kno mitsuru had siblings till i rechecked his wiki for the sake of this story we gonna pretend he's an only child just like i had thought when i was like 8k words in thanks


	3. Chapter 3

He considers it some sort of push, his promise to Tenma, but really, he may have been set from doing this from the start.

He wish he knew why the thought of some disappointed expression, overcasting the comely face he met a day ago, wrings his heart far more intensely than it should, why the idea of upsetting a creature he could never meet again nearly hurts him, stings. 

Why it drives him out here, tonight, onto the shore of the sea he is unmoved by,

He does not truly know.

Beneath his bare feet, the sand feels cool and soft. Its dampness, along with the chill of the wind and the darkness of the night, make him shiver. To stand out here, with the intention of waiting until he sees that face again, feels pointless, foolish.

But there is no other way.

He cannot use his boat, not without rousing suspicion. What happened on coincidence cannot be recreated.

Here, however, if he stood here, there may be a chance.

Because the setting is right and all he has to do is stand here, until they all come out to play. 

He knows this is dangerous, he also knows that as long as he remains conscious, mindful, he will be okay.

He believes that, he really does.

This hope that, maybe his face is just as unforgettable as the one in his head is ridiculous and incredibly vain, but is also what helped drive him out here, so he prays it does not start to wane.

The lull of the sea is disrupted when the waves get louder and Adonis realizes he is not alone any more.

His excitement is stunted when he sees more tails than he can count.

Though his heart still races and his face feels warm, he is frightened.

He is not sure whether he should start searching, or if he should even look up all.

The sounds of water splashing, trickling, and the bits of skin and scales slipping past the surface to reveal themselves for a few moments only to disappear again is so chilling he finds it hard to move.

He wants to move.

He also wants to see just a glimpse of what he saw the other day.

A figure pokes its head above water, and save for the light of the moon, it is too dark to make out anything other than that until it starts to move. If Adonis had only thought quicker, had come to his senses just a second faster,

Had shooed away his curiosity for just a moment, in order to maintain safety, he would have been able to avoid this lush and eerily radiant shade of green the moment the light hits it just right.

This unfamiliar gaze.

A sharp pain that jabs the very top of his head, spreads in a gush and envelops his heart in a vertiginous wave so sudden he can hardly make out his own pulse, so sudden, he would stumble if not for the magnifying pull that ushers him forward.

The froth of the ocean nip at his toes, and before he knows it the water levels his ankles, his shins and it hurts. From the cold, numbing pain in his legs to the hot, heavy tug of pressure in his head that drains to his neck, it hurts too much to cry out. This misplaced infatuation, this love for something he cannot recognize continues to move him forward and forward.

The figure does not move; it is all he sees. His body keeps moving, and to feel that sensation with no control is terrifying. This detachment, this conscious separation from mind and body makes him utterly nauseous. 

When the water reaches his waist, every bit of his skin starts to tingle. When it reaches his chest the shock makes it so hard to exhale, and his erratic breaths are disrupted by splashes of saltwater that slap at his face so unkindly, so aggressively. The sway of the sea is cruel and rapid and Adonis cannot see a thing; his eyes sting with lids so dense yet he cannot close them, he cannot tell what is in front of him but knows he must continue onward and it is painful, so very painful.

Adonis does not hope to die,

But if death were to come, he prays that it takes him while he still can feel, at the height of his pain, and not when his body gives out.

To be aware, until the very end, is a sign of strength, he is sure.

When a wave shoves him so hard his world goes dark, panic leaves his body, and he is filled with spite.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

He is not certain what brings him to first: the overall ache in his body, or the feeling of warmth by his side. Adonis jolts up, the action itself makes him wince before he looks around to see that he is on land. On soft, cool sand with a small fire lit close enough to keep him warm.

“You are a stupid, stupid man.”

Not too far from him, in the water, resides a boulder both tall enough to climb and big enough for crashing waves to have no effect, other than to splash water onto the being that lies atop it.

Thanks to the light of the fire, Adonis can tell he is being looked down upon, can see the quick and steady swish of a tail concealing most of the anger that could not be expressed in the face he is so relieved to see.

He tries to speak, but ends up letting forth a series of coughs; his chest is sore.

“Can you tell me your name?”

He exhales. 

“Adonis.”

“Adonis?” An echo.

“Otogari. Otogari Adonis.”

“You’re very bold, you know that?”

“I wanted to see you…” Adonis cannot help the way his voice makes him sound as if that reason alone will absolve him of any trouble he has caused.

He hears nothing in response, leave for a splash, and it is then Adonis truly notes how empty the water is in comparison to earlier. It makes him wonder how long he has been out.

Adonis would say that his first encounter with this being was by far one of the most memorable experiences of his life, however, watching it become bipedal is something that definitely can contend.

Shaking legs stepping out from behind the boulder, and the colorful scales trailing all the way up to what he could now call thighs, slowly morphing into bare skin to match the torso above them have him feel as if he has not woken up at all. It is a puzzling, oddly captivating sight, and it makes Adonis want to get up immediately, simply to reach out and help. But the fins and parts of a tail that fade and dissipate onto the surface of the water in small, colorful mists, tell him not to move, even when they are blown away by the breeze.

He hears a tired sigh, and it continues to shuffle towards him with small, slow steps. It stands before him—completely bare now—with arms crossed.

“This sea is not kind,” Adonis senses exhaust, “and she does not care for your intentions. Not at all.”

He casts his eyes anywhere but in front of him. 

“I know.”

“Tell me, Adonis, were you prepared to die?”

“I was not.” He says quickly, and the painful realization that this lapse in proper judgement has almost led him to a watery grave, almost hurts more than the ache and soreness together. He clutches his damp shirt, and is suddenly more aware of how heavy it feels on his skin. He can feel himself being stared at, and it makes him want to hang his head. 

He eyes the fire again, clears his throat to speak up and ask:

“Did you do this?”

There is a pause, then:

“Are you grateful to me?” The question is carried with a laugh, and Adonis senses enough relief of tension to relax a bit.

“I am.”

Adonis wonders if he has enough strength in him to return home. Despite the close distance, it hurts too much to even stand. The wind picks up and he feels a chill. He cannot stay here for long.

“Do you find me cruel?” It is said with unfamiliar hesitance; arms relaxed at sides. As if the words were meant to be lost as soon as they were spoken.

It makes Adonis unsure if he should answer.

“My eyes—they tell the sea when I’m in trouble, so she protects me… I would never take advantage of her.”

This time, when their gazes touch, Adonis feels no sort of fear.

“I can only speak for myself, and myself alone. Do you understand?”

Adonis senses a kind of urgency; a strong hope that he gets it, how all of this works. This single perception that had the world view them as awful entities that toy with the lives of people, has shaped him more than he thought. And for one of them to come to him just to hint at something different, to inspire a new perspective, makes him ashamed he had never grasped a concept like this before. 

Regardless of his feelings toward the sea and lack of them, regardless of the impression of indifference he believes he carries, his own fear, caution, and every single calculated action toward these creatures were all influenced by that image.

Adonis is not sure if he understands their world completely. But what he is sure of is that there is not an ounce of cruelty emanating from the one before him, and as long as he remembers this gesture, he can easily paint an entirely new image of his own.

He nods, then hears a sigh of relief.

“Good, now leave, please. I don't have any intentions of watching you all night.”

He nods again, attempts to get to his feet, only to stumble and fall back down. The movements of the ocean still engraved in his senses, make it hard for him to stand up straight.

A hand is outstretched to him—small, pretty, and delicate. It is for that reason it makes him hesitant on accepting.

“It will only get colder.” The hand does not move.

When he takes it, Adonis thinks he will not forget a feeling like this, something so soft and akin to fragility, against his callused and roughed palm is not foreign enough to awe him, but unfamiliar enough to fear the strength of his own grip.

When he takes it, he is grateful.

He wonders just how many instances of surprise will he have to go through before the feeling of shock becomes a lost emotion.

He did not expect to be lifted off his feet,

He also did not expect to be carried, taken all the way to his home after losing a battle of insistence. 

So when the two stand by his door, he cannot help but to be too flustered to out with a proper expression of gratitude.

Adonis leans against the door frame, and wants to question just how light he must have felt to not even see a hint of strain from the other. 

“Could I have your name, as well?”

“I go by Arashi.”

“Arashi…?”

A laugh.

“Narukami. Narukami Arashi—real pretty, right?” The question does not match its tone, but Adonis is too exhausted to actually find that odd.

He nods, and a second gust of wind makes him shudder, makes him notice the wince in the other’s face.

“Please come inside.”

Adonis is met with a stare, a face with cheeks tinted pink, just barely visible by the lamp of his door.

He repeats, opens up.

“Please—it’s warm.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Adonis, if I told you that I love the sea, but would not miss the sea, would you believe me?_

_Do you have reason to lie?_

_I do not._

_Then, I would._

_Adonis, if I told you that I love the sea, but would not return to the sea, would I still be welcome here?_

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

He tried to keep his questions to a minimum, but he was a naturally curious man who only searched for answers to the things he had interest in. Narukami had one for them all, some more vague than others, but it was enough to satiate Adonis all the same. He agreed to letting him stay, put hardly anything thought to the idea after considering how much he owes him for the night before.

Narukami spends everyday in his bathtub now. It is not very big, but not very small either. Without fail, Adonis would seat himself beside it, asking questions and adding bubble bath soap—apricot scented—whenever the other requests it.

“Your tail is back.”

“It never left.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Do you think it hurts?”

“I assume the transition would deal a lot of pain.”

A hum.

“It doesn't.”

“Not even a little?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Then, what about your legs?”

“What about them, Adonis?”

“Do they hurt, when you keep them instead of your tail?”

“Not at all, but they can tire me out quickly if I’m not careful.”

“So, it drains energy?”

“Something like that.”

“Then, your fin-”

Narukami wrinkles his nose.

“Let’s not talk about fins.”

“Then-”

He hushes him, presses one soapy finger to his lips to signal the end of his questioning. Adonis ignores the bitter taste, notes that he will just have to pry another day. He wipes his mouth while Narukami slips back into the bathwater, and sighs.

“Mmh, I think all your questions can be summed up with the simple answer of: ‘I’m strong, and can endure a lot.’ It’s what you really want to know, right? Well, there you go. Almost anything is easy for me to adapt to.”

“Impressive.”

“After everything you just—that praise was so flat! Be more amazed with me. I once constrained a shark. Do you know of any other pretty faces that can pull off such a feat?”

Adonis clears his throat, “ _Impressive._ ”

Narukami giggles, wiggles lower into the tub to blow around the bubbles that reside on the surface of his bath.

“The people of the sea are well-evolved, could you tell me what is in your diet? Ah—what is your protein intake like?”

“‘People of the sea’, ‘people of the sea’, Adonis, I keep telling you, I am not a person of the sea any more. I live on land, so I am a person of the land, no?”

“But-”

“I’ve walked this ground plenty of times, before I met you. I can fit in just fine. I’m like you now, treat me as such.”

“…Understood.”

Narukami smiles, then leans on the edge of the tub.

“Now, I will ask you questions. So many, you’ll lose your voice. Are you ready?”

Adonis sits up straight.

Narukami leans back now, hums and looks towards the ceiling and scoops up suds until a question finally comes to mind.

“Your home is not very big, but empty enough for anyone to believe it is at first glance. Is it really yours?”

“I was raised in this house.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Where is your family?”

“My sisters live in the city—they work for a talent agency as managers. All three of them.”

“Oh? And you’re all the way out here?”

“I like it here.”

Narukami’s tail slips out from the tub and hangs off the edge, waves slowly. Ignorant to the sudden spill that falls from the bath, he gets a closer look at Adonis, as if he would catch him in some lie.

“Where are your parents?”

“Moved—they live far away from here too, a place more remote and peaceful.”

“More peaceful than here?”

“They said they would like to finish growing old in somewhere reclusive, alone, as a ‘last selfish request’.”

“That’s how it is…” he leans back. “So you live here all by yourself, do you not get lonely?”

“Everyone here is my friend. I also get calls from family, occasionally.”

“No, I mean, in here. In your home. Does it not make you sad, to be in such an empty house?”

“If I am bored, I will go outside.”

“Adonis, _no,_ I mean, someone to wake up to, you know? Not family, but…”

Adonis only tilts his head as if it will help him understand, and it makes Narukami shift under his gaze, unsure if he should finish.

“But, Narukami, don't I wake up to you now?”

An abrupt splash from his tail makes Adonis flinch, and he hardly gets a word out before Narukami, red-faced with a hand to his cheek, avoids eye-contact and shoos him out of the bathroom, leaves him to question why he suddenly wishes to soak alone.


	5. Chapter 5

“So then, we partnered up for Home Ec, since today was the day we were going to make fruit purée.”

“Mhm.”

“But he kept acting like I was going to be a bother, and wanted to do everything by himself. ‘Just leave everything to me’ he said, ‘but don’t think about causing any trouble, Mitsuru, you’re good at that.’”

“Mhm.”

“I jus’ told him: ‘Thank you, Tomo-chan!’ but he yelled at me and said it wasn't a compliment.”

“I see.” Adonis walks up the three steps to his home, a chatty first year clinging to his back even as he unlocks the door and steps inside. Tenma finally slips off to remove his shoes, and seat himself at the counter of the kitchen while Adonis puts his things away and readies them something to drink.

“So _then,_ we all got blenders, a bunch of fruit, and some water. Tomo-chan wouldn't let me touch the knives so he peeled everything on his own—I got to blend though, he let me do that.” He kicks his feet. “We only had to blend for a few minutes, but I forgot to count…! So I thought I could just lift the lid really quick to peek and see if it reached that mushy texture instead, you know? But…”

“But?” Adonis repeats.

“When I took the lid off, _everything_ came out! The blender was all like: _Whruv-whruv-whruv-whruuuuuuv, ki-ki-ki,whriz, whrizzz!_ Like that.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, yeah! Tomo-chan was _so_ mad, he kept shouting: ‘Mitsuru you idiot! Why’d you do that?’ and stuff—cause it got all over our clothes. We had to wear our gym uniforms for the rest of the day.”

“That must have been troublesome.” Adonis places a cup on the counter, then leans against it, gives Tenma his full attention.

“Mmh, I don't think he’s mad any more, though.”

“Did you apologize?”

“Ado-chan-senpai, it was an accident, you know.”

“Even if it was, you still inconvenienced a friend, didn't you?”

“Yeah…”

“Then you should let him know you are sorry.”

“He already does! I said ‘Oops!’ and everything, so he knows I didn't mean to.”

“...”

“Are you mad at me?”

Adonis rests a hand on Tenma’s head, ruffles the front of his hair with his thumb before he pats it. Tenma adopts a sheepish look, one too close to a full-blown sulk to ignore. This method always works. In an instance where Adonis could not really say things that would garner an upset reaction, this gesture of praise, used especially where it is not needed, is inappropriate enough for Tenma to understand exactly what he means. He does not have to say anything at all.

“I’ll tell him tomorrow, so don’t be mad, okay?”

“I am only glad that you are taking responsibility for your actions, Tenma.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s my friend,” He says with returning cheer, “He’s my friend and I love him—I love all my friends. And I love you too, so I wanna make you guys happy. I’ll take responsibility, I’ll take _every_ responsibility ever—I’ll take the whole world’s responsibility!”

“Tenma, I believe that would be difficult for even the strongest man alive.”

“Then I’ll be stronger than that! Like a superhero.”

“That still might be too hard, to take on something like that all by yourself.” And while the idea of boundless strength is something that very much appeals to him, Adonis is aware of limitations. 

“Then I’ll be a _super_ superhero.” He declares, “Call me ‘Super-super Mitsuru-chan!’”

“‘Super-super Mitsuru-chan’,” Adonis hands him the cup. “What would you like to drink before you head home?”

“Mmh, orange soda! No—grape, no, no—orange. Wait, both. Half-and-half. Mix ‘em together please!”

“I am certain your mother advised against having such sugary drinks.”

“Shh,” Tenma puts a finger to his mouth, “She doesn’t have to know, you know?”

Adonis moves towards the fridge, “Your options are: milk, and watered-down apple juice.”

Tenma whines for some sort of compromise, to which Adonis does agree to, and ensures the younger he will add a few scoops of powdered chocolate to flavor the offered milk. Pleased, Tenma leans over the counter to watch him patiently and closely, makes sure to count each scoop and insists on mixing it himself when Adonis puts the spoon in.

When he gets his drink, he downs about half in one go before he sets the cup down and wipes his mouth.

“Ado-chan-senpai, is it okay if I clean my uniform here?”

“Is there a reason why you can't do it at home?”

“I like your soap more—it smells like fresh air! All nice and breezy, you know? I was thinkin’ I can leave my clothes here and you take care of the rest. Then, early in the morning, I’ll run back over real fast to get them before I get ready for school, sounds good?”

“So, you want me to wash your uniform?”

“Mhm!”

Adonis grabs a bottle of water from his fridge.

“I guess if you can get here early, there’s no problem at all. Only if you can get here early, though-”

“I can, I can! I’m a fast runner, you know?”

“Then it’s fine.”

Tenma does a little cheer, slips off the counter stool to go grab his backpack.

“I’ll go leave my clothes in your laundry hamper. Where do you usually keep it? Bathroom, right?” He is off before Adonis can confirm, and it takes him the few moment after he sips his water to process why letting him slip away like that was not the brightest thing he could have done.

Two shrieks and a splash is all it takes for Adonis to dash straight for his bathroom. He opens to see Tenma on the floor, head and shoulders soaked as he shakily scrambles away from the tub, and Narukami clenching shower curtains, pulling them up to his chin and looking visibly shaken as well.

Tenma is absolutely babbling; his poor explanation comes out in stutters while he does even more talking with his hands, waving them about wildly. Adonis only pieces together ‘tail’ and ‘curious’ and ‘slipped’ before he helps him up and gets a better look at the damage done to his clothes.

“Ado-chan-senpai—! I-”

“Please calm down, Tenma,” He starts, “I forgot to tell you I had a friend using my bath—it’s my fault.”

Tenma only clutches his arm, hides behind him to peek at Narukami.

“A friend?”

“Yes,” He assures, “A very kind friend.”

Narukami waves at Tenma with an offered smile, to which the other shyly returns.

“Friend…” He repeats quietly, “I um… I made a fruit purée today…”

“Oh? Was it good?”

He nods, and Adonis can feel him relax. While he is not sure Narukami understands Tenma’s way of initiating conversation as means of getting comfortable, he is glad he is receptive enough to carry it in spite of how unexpected everything is.

“But—I spilled it, so I don’t have any with me…”

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Narukami wears a pout before a soft smile overtakes it. “Let me know when you make more, then. I love purée.”

He nods vigorously like it is a promise. “Me too, me too! It’s all soft… like someone chewed your food for you!”

“Mhm, very convenient!”

Tenma is grinning now, letting go of Adonis’s arm. He flashes a glance from Narukami’s face to his tail.

“I’ll bring you some when I can, but I can't swim in the ocean, so we’ll have to meet here again, okay? I’ll bring my swim trunks so I can eat with you in there too.” He nods at the tub.

“How cute!” Narukami muses, “I’ll look forward to it.”

You’re senpai’s friend, so I want you to be my friend too, you know?”

“If that’s the case, then we’re friends already.”

Adonis rests a towel onto Tenma’s head, and the smaller mumbles something about his milk before he clutches it with a ‘thank you!’ and scampers back into the kitchen.

“A very kind friend…” Narukami says once he is gone; Adonis gets sheepish.

“Was that too presumptuous, to think of this as a friendship?”

“Not at all. If I enjoy your company, and you enjoy mine, then there is not much else to call this, is there?”

“Are you okay?” He picks up Tenma’s uniform off the floor.

“Oh, I’m fine. The little one was more spooked than I was, has he met someone like me before?”

“Only in stories.”

“Really? Then it makes me happy I’m his first—even though I didn’t want to be.”

Adonis suppresses the ‘why?’ bubbling in his throat to ask another question instead.

“How was your day?”

Narukami beams, “It was _wonderful,_ I took the money you gave me and went into town—I stopped by many places, and talked to lots people. The heat was far too much though, I think I’ve been underestimating the summertime here. If it wasn't for that fountain in the park, I don't think I would have been able to make it back home.”

“Narukami—you took a soak in a public fountain?”

He frowns. “Don't make a face like that, it’s not what you think. Simply touching the water with my hands—it was enough. Just barely.”

Adonis adjusts a bathmat with his foot.

“I am glad you made it back okay, I thought I might have been able to see you at the fishmonger, but never got the chance to.”

“That’s because I avoided your store.”

“Why is that?”

Narukami leans back in the tub, presses his fingertips together.

“So you could be happy to see me now that you’ve returned. I wanted to bring that one saying to life.”

“What saying?”

“‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ or so it goes.”

“Narukami, I do not think you were gone long enough for me to miss you that severely, but I am still very fond of you. If that counts.”

He huffs, “Then, it will for now.” He lifts himself to sit on the edge of the tub. “You still carry the scent of your store.”

“Fish are very pungent.”

“I am well aware—were you intending to bathe today?”

Adonis nods, “After I send Tenma off.”

“I’ll let you freshen up, then. I want to tell you more about my day, so make some time for me when you finish, okay?”


	6. Chapter 6

When Adonis leaves his bathroom in a change of fresh clothes, towel draped around his neck to catch the droplets of water that fall from his hair, he walks out to unexpected silence, leave for the faint rumble of his washer nearby. Now, it is not that he thinks of Narukami to be noisy, more so than the fact he would like consistent proof his house is not as empty as it used to be.

It is when he reaches his room, he hears the rhythmic creak of his own bed. Confused, he opens up to see Narukami bouncing lightly atop it with small jumps, and the most amused smile he has seen in a while. Adonis notes how his shirt and shorts fit loosely Narukami’s frame, and wonders when it would be appropriate to tell him that he is free to buy clothes of his own.

“Adonis! Your bed is very springy, did you know? I think I could touch your ceiling if I tried!”

“Please be careful.”

“I’m fine!”

“Even the most comfortable of places can be dangerous, Narukami. I would not like for you to fall.”

No sooner he says that, Narukami slows into a stop, and sits himself on it instead. Adonis joins him.

Narukami moves behind him and takes the towel from his neck, as well as the liberty to dry his hair. The act startles Adonis for a moment, makes him visibly tense before the gentleness of his hands, soft with the promise to only soothe, have him relax into the touch. This nurturance is a distant feeling, something he could say likens the care his mother used to give, but not quite.

Because it is Narukami, because this is being done from his kindness, to claim that the stir in his heart and the rise of warmth in his skin comes from a place of nostalgia, would be wrong.

“For you to worry about my well-being this much…” He laughs, “I know my body a lot better than you do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don't be.”

When Narukami runs a hand through his hair to gauge its dampness, Adonis revels in the work of lithe fingers too much to be discreet. Narukami’s giggle grounds him, has him shyly take back his towel as to not embarrass himself any further.

“Have you eaten today?”

Narukami moves to lie on his side. “I haven't had much, really. What’s for dinner?”

“Beef and-”

Narukami tsks, lets out some feigned, exasperated sigh. “What is with you and your taste for meat?”

“It supports muscle growth.”

“A little variety wouldn't hurt.”

“I can make something separate for you, if it’s what you’d prefer?”

“No, no, I want to eat the same as you.” He rolls onto his back and looks up at the ceiling. “Once I get settled, I’ll find a job where I can learn to cook all sorts of things here, and make my own meals, so you don’t have to go through the extra effort.”

“Narukami… do you really not want to return to the sea?”

“No, not at all. Is it really that odd to you?”

“The sea is your home, and it protects you-”

“Am I overstaying my welcome, Adonis?”

Adonis shakes his head.

“You are free to stay here as long as you’d like.”

“Because you are lonely, right?”

“Because you have saved my life, and I want to properly repay this debt.”

A noticeable pause has Adonis unsure of whether he should say any more.

“You know, I might want to go back,” Narukami says softly. “Sometime, in the near or far future I’ll change my mind and wish to be with the sea again.” He sits up. “But that’s in the future, and this is now. And I’m going to listen to what my heart says now, not what I think it’ll say later. If it’s still a bother to you that this is my only reason, I can go somewhere else.”

As if still touched with the remnants of the tease, Adonis recoils slightly, scoots closer to the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry. I won't ask any more.”

Narukami gets out of his bed, and shuffles over to his closet. “Enough of that, I want to show you what I bought today—close your eyes, and when you open them, be sure to give me a breathless look. Even if you really aren't—but I’m sure you will be,” He grins. “Now go on, go on, squeeze them shut.”

Adonis covers his eyes instead, and Narukami lets out an approving hum. He hears the creak of the closet door, a crinkle of a plastic bag, and the shuffle of clothes. Adonis keeps his eyes closed until told otherwise, even after the moments of complete silence that fill his room. 

It makes him anxious, the very fact he is doing this at all. The fact he can feel himself being exposed to more levels of closeness—which is not bad, but it is new, becomes newer with every conversation he has with Narukami, and it is this complex mixture of excitement and fear that keeps him from initiating anything, but hoping they do not stop.

“Okay, okay. You can look now.”

And when he does, breathless does not describe how he feels, because there is a lot he could say, if he had it in him to utter the words.

Narukami dons a sundress; a light, cream-colored, square-necked dress that holds onto him all the way to his waist, until it flows just a little past his knees, and when he twirls once—twice to reveal that it is backless, it is when Adonis realizes he definitely does not have it in him to speak.

So he gapes, watches Narukami demonstrate just how thin, airy, and refreshing the fabric looks and feels with tiny side-to-side sways of his hips and miniature hops. Adonis does not know why it took him until now to truly see how long and smooth his legs can be, how enticing it would be to touch, but now that he is aware, he finds it hard to think about anything else.

“What do you think? Not that I’m not grateful for the clothes you loaned me, but pants make it hard for my legs to breathe even now. Something like this—it’s next to nothing, which is what I’m used to, so…”

“‘Next to nothing’…” Adonis repeats in a whisper. He cannot feel his face.

“This’ll be like a crutch for now. I’ll get used to pants soon—before winter comes, for sure.”

“It’s nice.”

“‘Nice’?” Narukami repeats, a look of disappointment marks his face, and makes Adonis all the more nervous.

“It’s very nice.” He clarifies, grips at the bottom of his shirt, as if he cannot get the rest of the words out properly.

“The color is very soft, and your eyes along with it, give a very interesting contrast.”

“‘Interesting contrast’.” He hums, “Is that good?” 

“Yes.”

“Do you like the color of my eyes, Adonis?”

He nods.

Narukami puts a hand to his face to hide the oncoming blush, and turns away.

“You are a very awkward man, you know? Your compliments have little tact, but I enjoy hearing each one, since I have yet to meet someone as sincere as you. And for you to feel this way about my eyes—it makes me happy.”

“Happy?”

“Mhm, you aren't afraid,” Narukami rests a hand to his chest. “I’m very happy—excited, even. I feel light, like I might have hold my own breath, just to calm down.”

“I see…”

“Do you find it odd?”

“A little.”

“ _Adonis._ ”

“Ah…?”

Narukami huffs, “To be treated delicately—like the feelings I just shared—would be nice, you know?”

Adonis folds the towel in his lap, and its coolness—or no, rather knowing it was just in Narukami’s hands—only makes him more aware of his hesitance. When Narukami speaks, his words are indulgent and lax, hardly ever weighed down by severity, harshness, or ill intent. It is when he speaks, Adonis knows that when those words touch, they are to touch like the carelessness of a breeze: gently, and passively.

Still, despite knowing this, Adonis is moved the expression of displeasure, and feels the need to make up for it with some sort of delicacy of his own, to expose just a little vulnerability, regardless if the other will be touched by the act, regardless if he would even notice or care.

“Narukami, I do not think it is a bad thing.”

“You don’t?”

Adonis clutches the towel.

“The feelings I have right now, are not ordinary at all, and make it difficult for me to share…”

“And you find it odd, too?”

“Yes. Odd, but not bad. So if you were to feel the same in that regard, please do not take offense.”

“What makes you think that they resonate? Our feelings,” Narukami hums. “They could oppose each other too, you know—I could mean to say that I hate you, right now, my inability to breathe around you could come from rage and nothing more.”

“I-”

“Would that not be bad, for you, at least?”

Panic threads with humiliation so quickly, fills his chest with a type of rush so unusual he can only stammer out some poor apology, and inwardly bash his own thoughtlessness. But when Narukami cups his face, all of that stops. The soft palms against his cheeks, and the smile in the eyes that stare down into his, eases him, tells him _But I don't mean that_ before the lips that say it aloud actually do.

Adonis breathes, exhales while Narukami murmurs an apology of his own through the tiniest smirk he has ever seen. He taps his chin, and Adonis feels it everywhere.

Narukami moves over to Adonis’s mirror stand to smooth out the wrinkles in his dress, and rouse his hair a bit.

“I stopped at the bookstore today, and picked up a very interesting read.”

“Where is it?”

“At the store.”

“You didn't buy it?”

“No.”

“But Narukami, you said it was interesting.”

“Interesting up until the point it stopped being interesting. It was an awful book.”

“You read the entire thing?”

Narukami shakes his head. “I did not have to.”

“Then you can't be sure-”

“Adonis, sometimes, you don't have to look at things thoroughly to judge its value.”

“Was it really that terrible?”

“She had porcelain skin.”

“Who?”

“‘Soft, porcelain skin, and big, vibrant, blue eyes that rivaled even sapphire’.” Narukami moves to seat himself next to him.

“‘She was Venus, a star’s essence in a touchable form.’ When I read that, I thought a description like that captured me well, so I really did like the story.”

“You did?”

“Mhm, definitely, a title like that is one that fits me best, you know?” He lies onto his back, Adonis does the same.

“She realizes that love will not come to her, despite her beauty, nothing attracts earnestly. So she goes and searches on her own.”

“Does she find it?”

“She does, in a very strange place she finds love, and becomes happy. It made me happy too.”

“That’s good.”

“It was, but something very bad happens, and what she said confirmed the horrible fate of the story. I didn't have to read any more.”

“What did she say?”

“That she would die for love, that she was so enamored with the man she fell for, she’d risk her life for him.”

The silence coddles them. The sound of nothing is neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but all Adonis cares about is the rise and fall of Narukami’s chest, its quick pace in comparison to his, and the very fact he can watch this with just a subtle glance to the side.

“Why is that bad?” He says finally, words like bait.

“Because love isn't something you should die for,” He snaps softly, “—and how could you paint someone so deserving of it, to be desperate to that extent?”

“What makes a person deserving?”

“If you want love, you deserve it. That’s all.”

Adonis can sense it, this sudden grudge that penetrates his words. They no longer fall free, and float with the feathery kindness he is used to feeling, but drop heavily and heedlessly without concern. And he does not understand it, can only grasp the packed emotion that seem to seep out with each annoyed exhale.

“Narukami.” Delicately, he tries, “maybe that is just how the story is intended to go.”

“If that is the case, then the story is no good.”

“Ah…”

“I don't like it, you know?” He shakes his head, “It’s a very unpleasant concept, to give your everything to someone else, to the point you’d let it be disposable—even if that someone was willing to do the same—is just wrong.” 

He shifts over to his side, cocks his elbow up and rests his head in his hand. Adonis looks away.

“Devotion…?” He offers, does not know why he suggests it, like he can expect some sort of praise for an answer like that. 

“Would you die for me, Adonis?”

He freezes.

“Mmh, I didn't word that right.”

An exhale.

“Then, how about: Adonis, if you were to love me, how would you do so?”

And still, it is a question spilling with enough discomfort he finds it hard to move. The uncertainty sitting on his chest, the tension balling up in his throat—he knows he does not want to answer, cannot answer, and he hopes, that again, Narukami will redress this question into something less frightening to face.

Narukami sees this, and rests his hand on his shoulder. Whether he means to comfort or intimidate, the touch radiates—it always does, and Adonis finds it easier to breathe. 

“If you loved me like in that story, hailed me as the height of perfection, and told me that my body, my skin, my eyes, made your heart feel as if it were meant to beat for me, and only me, that you would devote yourself to me, live and die for me—” Narukami closes his eyes, exhales, and Adonis leans in just to listen even closer than before.

“I would have to say, that I could never come to feel the same. I would have to say, that if your love for me is much like worship, I may even come to hate you.”

And while those words settle, there is an inexplicable sense of calm that lulls him, takes him to this well-needed state of stillness he is glad for. He finds no feeling more comfortable than the flush of understanding that washes away his nerves. And while Narukami watches him with this unwavering, tender, hopeful, cautious gaze, he looks upward determined not to meet it. He does not want to find an answer in it.

He has his own. Simple, like the message he has read.

“Then, I would love you like I love myself, treat you with no less and no more than you deserve.”

“But Adonis, do you love yourself?”

A thoughtful pause, a reply just as candid as the one before it.

“I have no reason to not.”

Narukami moves to sit up, now at the edge of Adonis’s bed. The distance between them creates a tugging feeling, a yearning sensation too small to question but big enough to shock Adonis into suppressing it, just quickly enough to act like it was never felt at all. He sits up too. 

“If,” he says suddenly, does not turn to look at him, “if you were to love me.” 

Adonis hears the smile in his voice.

“Right.” He says back, “if.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last part was such a kick in the butt to write
> 
> it's one of those scenes that u initially conceptualize the drives u to start the fic in its entirety i had to rewrite this part like 3 times bc i wasnt sure if i wanted to depict arashi as someone who was in love with the concept of love or like Heavily Spited it but like i think?? i have some sort balance i kinda like how this ended up


	7. Chapter 7

They do not stop, these talks. Every other day, is like a new concept to discuss and rediscover, and Adonis finds himself enjoying them more and more.

And the question that had been lingering in the back of his mind since the night he decided to share his home, is not answered, but somewhat resolved.

Narukami is searching for something.

Something he has not been able to find in the sea, something that is right here, where Adonis can help him find it.

And though he does not know what that something is, Adonis would very much like to help him find it, as long as he is here, he can.

The air around them has changed, and he wonders if Narukami feels it too. It is a settled feeling, very grounded and secure. 

He wishes he could recall the exact moment, the moment when all the uneasiness left him, because each time he is by Narukami’s side there is nothing but comfort. It has him think, makes him hope that this is to be a good thing, that he was meant to feel this way, this relaxed.

Narukami’s touches have changed too, or rather, the feeling of them. They are lighter, softer, and much more confident. Adonis does not mind them, accepts them with ease. He is not sure if he could ever be daring enough to welcome them, to return these gestures with the same amount of grace, but right now, just to think it, is enough for him.

He has been on his mind more than ever, and he does not know what to make of it, other than hope that this is okay, to feel like this, and think like this, and wish and pray all he wants about Narukami, about the things they could do, and be.

He never thought he would end up in this state, so tender and vulnerable, he could not imagine having to share it. He must calm down.

Blankets tossed over his head, Adonis rolls over onto his side, and tries to let sleep take him back. Judging by the very little amount of sunlight slipping into his room, it is early; he has a bit of time before he needs to get ready for work.

He sighs, finally relaxed enough to clear his head, he is moments from catching the beginning of a doze before he hears his bedroom door creak open. It is done slowly enough, that if Adonis were actually sleeping, he might not have noticed.

“Adonis.” A whisper.

An urge tells Adonis not to move, and he obeys it.

“ _Adonis._ ” A harsher one.

Adonis hears a groan, then silence. He assumes the faint sound of footsteps is to follow—and it does, but they do not part from the room. They get closer.

Adonis feels a dip in the corner of his bed, and a short-lived tingling sensation that has him hold his breath.

A sudden tug, and Adonis is exposed; he looks up to see Narukami staring down at him with narrowed eyes. Dry, with a towel tied loosely at his waist, and bedsheet balled tightly in his fist, he frowns.

“I knew you were awake! Do not ignore me, Adonis.”

“Good morning, Narukami.”

The frown is overcome with a small smile at the greeting, he shakes his head.

“I am not ready to start my morning just yet. I will go back to sleep, but first, there is something you need to know.”

“What is wrong?”

“I want to lie with you.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry—you what?”

“I have never been in a bed like this.”

“Narukami, this bed is very ordinary-”

“But the man in it is not.”

It is far, far too early. 

“Please…”

“Just for today, I want to lie here for a little while, I want to know this feeling.”

Without another word, Adonis shifts over to make room. The thought of sharing this space with him makes his ears burn. He never really knows what Narukami is thinking, or what expectations he may have, but things like these—albeit surprising—bring out the most embarrassing sense of excitement that is difficult to contain. Narukami slips under the blankets, a mere inches from Adonis’s face.

Comfort coats his nerves so quickly he could fall asleep right now, just knowing that he is beside him, and he wonders if this feeling is shared.

“This is what it means to be ‘cozy’, right?” Narukami says, “Your bed is warm.”

“I’d say so, yes. Is that good?”

“I like it.”

Neither of them speak now, the silence just nice enough to keep. Adonis closes his eyes, and Narukami does the same. Within moments, he feels a hand atop his own, and flushes.

“Narukami-”

“You are just as warm.” He whispers. Then, almost as if to test something:

“If I wanted to be closer, would you let me?”

“I do not think we could get any closer than this.”

He laughs, turns his head to hide his face into a pillow and mumbles something Adonis cannot make out.

“But if we could, would you let me?”

“If that were the case, I would.”

“Do you mean that in all honesty, or is this your attempt at being bold?”

Adonis shrinks, and he hums.

“You are very transparent, you know.”

He can only look on abashed, the embarrassment gaining more weight when he finally notes the feel of Narukami lacing their fingers together.

“If I were to be honest,” he starts, voice soft and hints of the shy nature he rarely ever sees, “I don't think my heart could handle getting any closer than this.”

“Then, why did you ask?”

“I just wanted to know.”

“So, this is fine?” Adonis asks, gives a quick glance to their hands.

Narukami squeezes, confidence returning.

“Yes, this is fine.”


	8. Chapter 8

He is in a conscious daze the rest of the day, mind unanchored and gone from the reality in front of him, only to come back to small chat with customers, and the short ride home. And it is careless, he knows, but at the moment, there is no nicer feeling that can pull him away from enwrapping himself in the memory of the morning he shared today.

For however long they rested together, even if Adonis could not bring himself to fall back asleep, it was far too soon to part.

Narukami’s body retains a fair amount of cool, it is soothing in a brisk, almost refreshing way. Today, when the sun rose high enough, slipped rays of light into his bedroom, and complemented the serenity he had single-handedly captured all by himself, Adonis wondered if that small amount of warmth was just as pleasant as his own. 

Does that not drip of conceit?

To think he could rival the sun, that the warmth from his own hands, his own arms, his body, his bed, could compare.

It is arrogant, carries too much self-regard for a man like Adonis; a man both quiet and humble.

And yet, he remains untouched by shame.

He tries to shift his focus elsewhere as he reaches home. Head still clouded once more as he walks to the front of his house, he almost manages to miss the person sitting on his steps before a grunt has his stop dead in his place.

“S’wrong with you? Looking all zombified—but without the gross part.”

“Oogami…”

“Yeah, it’s me. Invest in a fuckin’ cell phone, will you?”

Oogami Koga is a longtime friend and self-proclaimed star on a path to fame. Adonis has known him since high school. Loud, brash, and messy, he had always held some sort of grudge against the very concept of conformity. Aware of his own talent, he moved with confidence, spoke with it, had his very air infused with it. It was this single quality that had Adonis gravitate to him as quickly as he did.

It was out of pure curiosity and interest, his draw to him, and Oogami accepted his presence with the face of anyone who loved an audience would, but with the attitude and actions of someone who appreciated it. Adonis found him easy to read after that. He was full of surprises, but never the ones he could not rationalize with simply remembering the type of person he was.

Maybe it is why now, his sudden visit does not alarm him as much as it should.

“It’s been forever since we’ve last seen each other,” he stands, squints, “did you get taller?”

Adonis nods, he scoffs.

“Ass.”

He sparked the start Adonis’s rebellious years, made him daring, gave him a taste for excitement, and—for a short moment—had him forget what hesitancy even felt like.

He was the first person to make his heart race.

Adonis can still remember the days of loitering around CD shops, watching local concerts from behind wired fences, meeting up at the town scrap yard to kick at garbage and broken car parts while listening to Oogami rant about societal norms and curse nonexistent enemies. He was on an entirely different level of free, something Adonis hardly ever bothered to reach because he was fine grounding him with the sensibility he lacked—or ignored, Adonis never really knew.

But he lived through him, relished the secondhand rush he got by just watching him. It was what he always did, watch him and look out for him, admire and protect.

In fact, Adonis’s only memorable act of self defiance was making the decision to stay out past curfew on a school night, for no justifiable reason other than to do it, do it and taste what Oogami had always tasted. 

He felt nothing but a pang of regret during the half hour scolding session that waited for him when he got home. He never knew why that was, why there was no satisfaction, or resolved spite. Thinking back, Adonis just never really had the desire to oppose like Oogami did, no one to fight and guard his freedom from.

They have not seen each other since their high school graduation, With mentions of an uncle with a guitar shop in the city, Oogami left town as soon as he could, suggested exchanging letter to keep in touch, to never experience that mutually feared drift.

For him to show up out of the blue like this is certainly unexpected, but even more so pleasant.

Oogami gives a low whistle as he eyes the interior of his house, kicks his boots off and strides over to his couch to stretch out on it, makes himself at home immediately.

“This place got a makeover, huh?”

Adonis heads over to the kitchen to wash his hands. “Yes.”

“It’s nice—all new and fancy-like. Doesn't seem like somethin’ you’d live in, though.”

“My mother and my sisters contributed most to the redesign.”

“And what was the point of that? Neither of ‘em live here.”

“They claimed they knew what was best.”

He snorts.

“Are you hungry?” Adonis asks, dries his hands before he moves over to his fridge.

“Really,” he sits up, “you’re not gonna ask why I’m here?”

“It’s just nice to see you again.”

“Don't bother getting started on any of that mushy business, about how you missed me and stuff.” He leans on the arm of the couch, “I don't need to hear all of that.”

“Okay.”

Oogami watches him pull out a tupperware filled with what he assumes to be leftovers of a dinner from the night before, and a single pot from his cupboard. Anticipation dwindling, he fiddles with the zipper of his jacket, and clears his throat to speak up again:

“But you did, right? You missed me?”

“I did.”

“Right, good—I missed you too, not that we need no heartfelt reunion or whatever. Only saying.”

“Okay.”

Adonis begins to reheat the leftovers on his stove, and Oogami stares at him blankly until he simply shakes his head, gets off the couch to move closer, and seat himself at the counter.

“How are things, though?” 

“The same as always, nothing has changed since the last letter I sent you.” 

“Figures, this place was always too slow-paced for me—is that beef and vegetables? Stew?”

“Yes.”

“In this weather?”

“Would you like some?”

Oogami tsks, “Only ‘cause I haven't had a home-cooked meal in forever. How’s the store?”

Adonis stirs the pot, “Just as father had left it.”

“Those old guys that used to work with him, they still there?”

“They are.”

“Ain’t it weird? Some of them watched you grow up, and now you’re technically writing their paychecks.”

“When you put it that way, I can see how it could be.” He fetches two bowls, and starts serving one, “But it does not feel weird, not anymore, at least.” 

“You still friends with that one guy, ah—” Oogami scratches his head, snaps his fingers, “the one with the turtles!”

“Kanzaki?”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s he up to?”

“He goes to a university for marine biology, and volunteers at a dive shop in his freetime,” Adonis sets a bowl and spoon in front of him, “he also offers to help with the store too, whenever he can.”

“Look at him, being a busybody,” Oogami tests the broth, “and here I thought you were the only one who wanted to be around fish guts all day. What’s with him hanging out ‘round your store?”

“He says it is good for his studies. I offered to simply tell him what he needs to know, but he declined, and told me that this way is best.”

“That’s dumb. All that extra effort is pointless if the answers are right in front of you.”

“I find it very earnest and admirable.”

“Of course you would.”

Adonis fills his own bowl and seats himself next to Oogami.

“How have things been for you?”

“Remember how I told you I got signed to a label a while back? I’m part of band now. S’called ‘UNDEAD’.”

Adonis takes on a look of surprise before it is overcome with a proud smile.

“That’s great.”

“I mean, it was bound to happen, but I’m glad it was soon, y’know? I’d hate to ever feel like I was wasting my time,” He takes a spoonful of his stew, “I wanted to tell you right away, but figured it’d be better to say it in person.”

“What are the members like?”

He groans between two more spoonfuls, “I don’t even want to get started on them, two of them are total assholes, and I swear they take turns pickin’ on me.” He slides his bowl aside to face him properly, “and the other two—they’re twins, they’re not so bad. I’ve got seniority over ‘em so they don't annoy me as much. But they’re into some really freaky stuff—I’m talkin’ circus acts. Like, one of them can eat fire, and keeps trying to get it greenlit for concert performances.”

Adonis winces, “How hazardous…”

“Right? I don’t really click well with any of them, but it’s not like that matters.” He turns toward his bowl again, “I’m trying to be star, not make friends, so as long as they aren't in my way, we’re good.”

Adonis frowns at that, gives him a full-on stare before Oogami scowls back.

“What?”

“Befriend them.”

“Did you not hear me?”

“I think it is important to reach out and get to know your bandmates.”

“I know too much already,” he mumbles, “and I don’t wanna be friends with ‘em.”

“You should.”

“Well, I won't. I got you, and you’re all I need. You get me, and you make good food.” He takes another bite of his stew, “I’m pretty set, you know.”

As soon as he says this, Adonis takes his bowl away.

“Seriously?”

“Oogami, I understand you can have a tendency to be shy around new people-”

“I don’t!”

“You must use this time to strengthen the bond between those you will share a stage with.” Adonis pats his shoulder, “Do not be afraid, I have faith in you.”

Oogami shrugs him off, grabs his bowl back and sighs.

“I know it’ll ruin things for me if I end up hatin’ on them all the time. Just to make it bearable for me, I’ll be nicer.” He offers, “now will you get off my case?”

Adonis nods.

“Small steps. I am proud of you for making the effort.”

“Whatever. This ain't all I came to tell you, though.”

“What is it?”

“We got lots of concerts lined up for next week, and I want you to come to one of them. Venue’s pretty far out, but it’s the closest we’ll be to this place in a while, so…”

“I want to support you,” Adonis tells him quickly, his poorly suppressed excitement in those words make Oogami grin.

“Hand me a piece of paper, I’ll write down the address for you—I’d text it to you, if you, you know, believed in mobile phones.”

“My landline works just fine.”

“I can’t send instant messages and pictures to landlines.”

“Is that not what the letters are for? You were the one who suggested-”

“I know! Look—it’s not that the letters ain't sentimental, but sometimes they start feeling like reports, y’know? You shouldn't have to wait three to five business days to hear about my morning.”

Adonis slips off the counter stool to fetch a notebook and pen.

“Understood. I’ll look into buying, then.”

“That easy, huh?”

“Oogami, if you wanted to talk to me more, you could have said so earlier.”

“Don’t make it sound like I was getting needy.” Oogami huffs, snatches the pen to start scribbling down directions while Adonis returns to his stew.

His front door opens in that moment of silence, the sound makes Oogami flinch.

The two watch Narukami shuffle in, sigh contently, and close the door behind him. He is clad in an apron he did not leave the house with—it conceals the denim romper beneath—and clutches a small bouquet of flowers as he joins them in the kitchen.

He mocks a downhearted hum, “I thought I could make it home before you.”

“I had a light day.”

“Who’s your guest?”

“A friend.”

His gaze at Oogami is a curious one, Adonis can sense the intent, but with the twitch in his friend’s nose to fit the irritated look he wears, he knows it has been interpreted as something else.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah.”

Narukami still offers a smile, looks about uncomfortably; Oogami’s stare at him is blatant and unmoving.

Adonis is not sure if this is something to make note of, if he is to question the sudden ill feeling he gets from Oogami’s disposition, or dismiss it, so he keeps the conversation going, just to tell himself he might be overthinking what he saw.

“Narukami, where did you get those flowers from?”

“They were given to me!” He turns to him, a bit relieved, “from the nice elderly lady who runs a flower shop nearby. I spent my entire day there, just talking to her and watering daisies—she allowed me to take some home for keeping her company.”

“What about the apron?”

He tugs on it, “I look professional, huh? She wants me to come back tomorrow.”

“Have you picked up a job?”

“I think so.”

“That’s great.”

Oogami coughs.

Narukami looks at their bowls, “Right, I’ve already eaten, but I’ll go freshen up so I can join you two,” he declares, only to pause, look down at the flowers in his hands, and gently hold them out to Adonis.

It is an unexpected gesture, one that leaves him with a look just as bashful as the one on Narukami’s face.

“I want you to have them.”

Adonis accepts the bouquet; holds it just close enough to catch a bit of its scent, but not enough to give away how giddy this makes him feel.

His ‘Thank you’ comes out soft, as he presses the flowers even closer, as the ends of their petals tickle the tip of his nose. and he tries to contain the bubbling delight that insists he express his gratitude with something more demonstrative.

Narukami sees it anyway, in a glimpse. It is with that he smiles, rubs the side of Adonis’s arm before he heads off to change.

As soon he is out of sight, Oogami, as if to free him from a trance, repeatedly hits the edge of his dinner bowl with the bottom of his spoon. The act is off rhythm, more animated that it should be, and sudden enough to snap Adonis away from the bouquet. 

To nearly forget the presence of a friend amidst the smell of flowers, Adonis takes a moment to wonder if he might be going sick in the head.

“How domestic.” Oogami comments.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I thought you said nothing’s changed.”

“This town is-”

“I meant with _you,_ jackass, with you.”

Adonis sets the bouquet down, “I have told you about Narukami before.”

“A single sentence in your letter that just says: ‘I made a new friend.’ is an understatement compared to what I saw.” He snorts, “you said the same shit when a stray cat let you pet it, you couldn't have been a little more specific regardin’ this?”

“Narukami is my friend.”

“He smells, Adonis.”

“That is rude-”

“No! I mean,” Oogami taps his nose, “he’s briny—ain't from here, but you knew that, right?”

It is not the first time Adonis goes against his better judgement.

“Narukami is from overseas.”

Oogami only stares at him as if he means to look past him, then shifts his attention back to his stew.

Adonis sighs, gets up to fetch himself something to drink. Narukami rejoins them minutes later, and leans onto the counter, cheeks in palms as he watches the two from one to the other.

He is in one of Adonis’s shirts now, and had Oogami’s words not have jarred him as much as they did, he would not have given this observation a second thought.

“Has something happened?” He finally asks.

Oogami only stands and steps into the kitchen to get a cup of his own, before Adonis can say a word, he runs it under the faucet for a few seconds, and stands right before Narukami on the other side of the counter. He slides the bowls aside to clear it, and slowly pour a straight line of water atop it.

It is not the first time Adonis feels the regret of going against his better judgement.

The water moves, steady, and in one, single direction. Even as Narukami backs away in slight alarm and annoyance, the liquid moves forth with an unbounded attraction, spills over the edge of the counter until it pools at his feet.

This is not something he knew could happen, but with what he already knows, it does not surprise him.

Narukami is loved by water.

Oogami sets the cup down and looks over at Adonis.

“Lie again.”

“Oogami, how did you-”

“I told you, he smells.”

“How rude-”

“Not like that!” He sits down again, “I know you’re a sea-breather, I can tell ‘em when I smell ‘em.”

“Is that so?”

Oogami gives a vague hand gesture to Narukami, “I'm stuck with two of these guys for the rest of my career, no way they can slip by me anymore.”

Adonis does not know what to make of this, this scandalized feeling. 

“You don't have to speak about me as if I’m not here, you know.” Narukami returns to his seat, “I don’t know what you might be suspecting, but it is wrong.”

“I just want to know what’s going on, since Adonis can't tell me who you are.”

“Nothing short of a runaway, really.”

“You hiding from someone?”

“I’ve simply grown tired of the sea. No need to pry any further.”

“You let him shack up here?” He turns to Adonis.

“Yes.”

“You trust him?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s all?”

“That is all.”

Oogami looks over to Narukami again, who crosses his arms and turns away to break eye contact; he sighs.

“Then… it’s fine, I guess.”

“...”

“Hey. My bad, okay?”

“...”

“Look—Adonis is kind of dumb when it comes certain things,” he starts, Adonis grunts, “it pisses me off when I think people are takin’ advantage of him; I jumped the gun when I saw you.”

“Ridiculously so.”

“I said it’s my bad! M’not good with strangers.”

Adonis prepares a drink for the both of them, and sets them down.

“Narukami is kind. Oogami is kind as well.” He looks between the two, “please get along.”

Narukami pulls his cup towards him, “Since I understand the suspicion, I’m not upset.” He smiles a little, just to give truth to his words, “I have no issues.”

“Same here.” Oogami adds.

“I am glad.”

Oogami takes a sip of his drink—lemonade—before he downs the rest in one go.

“Anyways, it’s time I hit the road.”

“So sudden…” Adonis mumbles.

“I’ll see you at the concert,” he moves to put back on his shoes, “stay a little while after, and we can hang out backstage—I’ll introduce you to the rest of the members, too.”

“Is that kind of thing okay?”

“It’ll be fine, they can't stop me.”

“Oogami-”

“Just make sure you come!” He waves the concern away, “I wanna see you, and you better cheer for me, too, so loud I can hear you from the stage.”

Adonis nods, “I will put my heart into it.”

“Don't get corny on me,” he chides sheepishly, right by the door, “Yeah, so later then—and don’t forget about the phone!”

“Goodbye, Oogami.”

He waves and finally takes his leaves. When the door closes, Adonis gets started on the dishes. Narukami joins him, picks up the now empty cups and meets him by the sink.

“A concert…”

“Yes,” he grabs a bottle of dish soap, “Oogami is part of a band.”

“Really? Is he well-known?”

“Not yet.”

“Mmh, it’s still exciting, though. I’ve never been to large gatherings like a concert before.”

“You should come with me, then.”

He pauses, “Really? Are you sure I can go?”

“It’s fine, isn't it? You don't have to stay home alone.”

Narukami smiles, contains his cheer and lets out an excited squeal instead. He hugs Adonis’s arms as means of gratitude, and brushes his lips against his cheek so quickly, the only way Adonis can keep his composure is to pretend as if he did not do that at all. His attempt ends up in failure, however, his hand already at his face to feel the warmth fiercely emanating from the contact.

Thankfully, Narukami pulls away with mentions of finding something to wear, too distracted with his own elation to notice.

And the thought of what it would be like to feel that again, to reciprocate it, arises.

A thought far too unbecoming to entertain any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> koga, kicking an empty soda can: fuck the system
> 
> adonis, softly, as he gently picks up said can and tosses it into recycling: yea
> 
> hHHH i was so close to creating some petty animosity between koga and arashi but then i was like Why? For What Reason? So i decided to chill we dont need alla that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as u can guess, i revamped Undead to literally just be the light music club +kaoru

The night of the concert has him fidgeting more than the anticipation felt in the days leading up to it did, and he knows why. He is excited. 

This occasion in particular, is a good one. Adonis gets to witness his friend’s success, and share this time with Narukami.

He gets to share this time with Narukami.

He is nervous, but it is the type of nervous that is paired with a thrilled feeling, mingled with it.

It is why he does not say a word the ride there, why he grips the steering wheel of his truck tightly, and looks straight ahead, because the most he can do is hide such feelings behind a face of stone as to not give them away.

Narukami does not see past his own fascination with the radio, it is something Adonis is grateful for, the way he switches from station to station with quick presses of a button, murmuring bits of lyrics from one song to the next.

When they arrive, stand before the entrance of the concert stadium, Narukami links his arm with Adonis’s, and looks around to see crowds of people already making their way in.

“So many… I thought you said they weren't well-known yet.”

“They are opening for a popular band,” He explains, still looking inside, “It is why their name is not the only one on the tickets.”

“Oh? You made it sound like this concert was their very own.”

“I believe Oogami simply wanted us to focus on him.”

“You don't plan on staying for the main event then, do you?”

“I do not.”

He hums, “That seems like a waste.”

“Another time, we can stay for an entire show.”

“That’s a promise now, you can't go back on it, okay?” He pats at his arm, then whips his head in some direction as he starts swatting at it excitedly now, “Ah—Adonis!”

“Are you ready to go inside?”

“Merchandise!”

“What?”

“ _Merchandise._ ” He repeats, pulls him toward some booth, “I want a fan—and a stick with a neon glow.”

“Narukami—” Adonis starts, too awed at the other’s strength to get his reply out faster, “Narukami, the money-”

He stops, looks up at him with a proud smirk and pats his right thigh, “I have the money, it’s in the _pocket_ of my _pants._ ”

“Right, this is your first time wearing a pair. How do they feel?”

“Exactly how I imagined they would: too concealing! My legs feel trapped, and I am anxious for my tail.”

“Is there any way you can feel comfortable, then?”

He shakes his head, “that is what shortening the hem of my shirt was for,” he tugs on the one in mention—a white tee, cropped by his own hands, “the exposure in my midriff will make up for the lack in my legs.”

“I do not understand that logic…”

“You do not have to! I look good and feel fine, that is what’s most important—Adonis! There is a line forming around it now,” he points back to the booth, “hurry, hurry!”

Adonis gives into his haste, and allows himself to be lead into a lively start of a long night.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“I killed it! I _fucking_ killed it! You saw me, right?”

“I did.”

“I was amazing, and they loved me! They loved me, right?”

“They did.”

Oogami’s grin is big and smug in contrast to Adonis’s, and as they head toward some small lounge area behind the stage, his laugh nearly resounds as he falls back onto one of the couches.

“Feels so good—man, I just wanna keep playin’ and playin’ until I drop, you know? I'm all excited, s’only up from here.”

Adonis moves to join him; Narukami sits on the arm beside him, still sways and moves to the faint sounds of the ongoing concert back on stage.

“The security didn't look too happy about us here.”

“Leave ‘em be.”

“Oogami, was it?” Narukami points his glowstick at him, “where are the others?”

“Probably watching the other group, why? You a fan of us now?” 

“You said you’d introduce us!”

Oogami slings an arm behind the couch and crosses his legs.

“I remember tellin’ Adonis that.”

“But I was there, so in a way, you told me too.”

“S’not how it works.”

Narukami stretches over across Adonis’s lap to poke Oogami in the side with his stick, easily makes the other recoil and curse as he swats him away.

“Don’t be so cruel!”

“Get off me!”

Narukami stretches further with a whine, forces Oogami onto the other arm of the couch as means to avoid his touch. Adonis can only lean back and get out a ‘please be careful’ as the two start a heated back-and-forth game consisting of jabs and dodges.

“No but listen, listen—you’re not getting it, _that’s_ what the flame retardant capes are for.”

“He’s still at it…”

“Aniki, please-”

“Yuuta-kun, tell me this isn't a good idea.”

“This isn't a good idea.”

“ _Yuuta-kun._ ”

Oogami snaps his head back to the voices behind him, Narukami follows, gasps and grips Adonis’s arm with a tightness that brings a surprising amount of concern. He saves face, though.

“Quit bein’ so noisy!” He scowls, “my people are over.”

“His ‘people’.”

“You got something you wanna say, Hakaze?”

Hakaze lazily puts his hands up at the hostility and only shakes his head. He moves over to some corner of the room where a table filled with snacks and drinks reside, swipes a mobile device off it and rejoins them by the couches, sits on the one across from them.

He does not spare them another glance, only scrolls through the phone quietly, clearly not interested in conversation. Another member takes the seat beside him, and Adonis has to note the sudden twinge of intimidation that comes in waft when he passes, has to note the lack of excitement he feels in Narukami’s tensed grip on his arm when he sits back on the couch.

There is also, without proper reason, an urge to get defensive upon the sight of a smile so unperturbed, a smile that is to be a sign of acknowledgement and nothing more.

Perhaps that is the cause. Adonis senses power behind a face of nonchalance, recalls the same amount of pressure he felt face-to-face with Narukami for the first time. It is because of this, he grows wary.

“Oogami-senpai, why didn’t you stay and watch with us?” Yuuta asks, and the other member, who resembles him entirely, places his hands on his hips and shakes his head at him.

“You should have stayed for one song like the rest of us did!”

Oogami turns back around. “I didn't feel like it.”

“Doesn't matter if you felt like it, it’s just something we have to do! It’s part of our growth as a band.” Yuuta frowns.

“Observe! Critic! Compare! Grow!” The other chants.

“Shut up.”

“ _Observe. Critic. Compare…_ ” He pounces him, wraps in a stealth hug so tight Oogami flares about in his hold, “Grow!”

Oogami yelps, twists and shoves until he loosens his grip. “Fuck outta here, Yuuta.”

“ _I’m_ Yuuta!”

“Hinata then!” He corrects, “Go bug someone else, will you?”

“Yeah guys, his people are here.”

“You tryin’ to start something with me, Hakaze?”

Hakaze, amused, squints as if he cannot process his rancor, “I’m on your side, man.”

“Well, stay on your own!”

“Introduce us to your friends, my pup.” A voice cuts in, from the member Adonis has been so watchful of. He eyes the two of them with a curious gaze, Adonis knows it is marked with innocence, knows that Narukami is the one with the most of his attention.

“Pup?” They echo in unison.

Hinata stifles a laugh heard all the way from the snack table, Yuuta sighs and sits himself between Hakaze and the other member with a discreet attempt to peek at the phone screen to his side.

“Told you not to call me that,” he hisses, stands up in the middle of the room.

“You should not ignore them.”

“I wasn’t!” Scratching the back of his head, Oogami gets his company and bandmates acquainted.

“S’Adonis and his friend Narukami,” he turns, “Adonis, this is Sakuma-senpai, the twins, and that guy.” He sits back down with arms crossed; they all stare at each other in silence, not sure what to make of the introductions.

Hakaze looks back at his phone,“they call me ‘Guy’ for short.”

“Oogami-senpai, you could have done a better job.”

“It’s cause he’s embarrassed, Yuuta-kun. Sakuma-senpai told everyone just now that’s he’s his little doggie.”

“ _Shut up._ ”

“Arf, arf.”

Oogami looks around for something to throw, only to disregard the search to shoot up from the couch and chase Hinata around the room.

“Pup.” Narukami whispers with a giggle into his hand, Adonis is confused.

“Why is Oogami a dog?”

“‘Cause I’m a lone wolf!” He starts lowly, “a predator, beast—they’re scared of me, so they gotta belittle me.” Oogami backs Hinata into a corner, “I’m a real Cerberus.”

“That makes _no_ sense.” Yuuta scoffs.

“Says you!” Oogami turns around to shout back, in that moment, Hinata escapes, hurries over to the couch beside Yuuta and takes over Sakuma’s seat.

Sakuma, who had quietly moved to Oogami’s old seat, right next to Narukami.

“Oogami-senpai doesn't meet the requirements to be a Cerberus.”

“If I say I’m a Cerberus, I’m a fuckin’ Cerberus.”

“But have you consulted with the Cerberus Checklist? Yuuta-kun.”

Yuuta pulls up an imaginary clipboard—it is what Adonis assumes, based on what his hands seem to pantomime—and a pen from his ear.

“Right. Number one on the checklist: Cerberus has three heads, so you must have three heads too.”

“Does Oogami-senpai have three heads?”

“Lemme see,” he pushes up his pretend glasses by its frames, holds a finger up to count, “One, um… yeah, just the one.”

“Ooh, things are not looking too hot for you right now, senpai.”

Oogami does not even shout, only waves them off with a look of annoyance as the twins revel in their joke. 

Hakaze sighs and finally sets his phone down.

“Hey,” he speaks up, “thirsty.”

Oogami gives him a questioning look, still irritated.

“Okay, and?”

“Get me something to drink, yeah?”

“Get it yourself.”

“Don't be like that,” he sighs again, melts back into his seat, “your hotheaded attitude sucked up all the moisture in the room. I’m drying out, take responsibility and hook me up with a sports drink.”

“I too, feel a little parched.” Sakuma adds, Oogami grumbles.

“The table’s right over there! Just grab a water!”

Sakuma rests a hand on his own cheek, gravely concerned.

“Room temperature water?”

“Am I plant?”

“Oogami-senpai, they couldn't even get us ice.”

“That’s how small we are.”

“God! Fine—I’ll find a vending machine,” Oogami pats his thighs, looks around for his wallet. Hinata whistles and holds it up between the tips of his fingers, puts it in front of his face to obscure his mock of a shy expression.

Oogami growls and marches over to snatch it from him before he heads back out.

He stops right by the door, and turns over to Adonis and Narukami.

“Hey—Narukami, did you want—” he pauses, as if struck with alarm and regret, “Fuck—ah, nothing, never mind.”

He is gone within moments, and his poor attempt to cease whatever he had started fails as the entire room looks directly at them.

Sakuma is the first to speak, places a hand over Narukami’s—he does not flinch.

“We are from the same place.” He says like fact.

Adonis can read Narukami’s struggle between admitting it and wanting to keep up the front, but any hope of that succeeding flees when he sees the assured look on Sakuma’s face.

The twins swarm him; Hinata behind the couch now, leaning against its back, and Yuuta on the floor by their feet staring upward, both curious about his identity.

“Are you really one of them? Water-people?”

“What color is your tail?”

“Is it true you guys have five lungs?”

“Can you sleep with your eyes open?”

“You guys are crazy strong, right?”

“How do you feel about the use of contortion and the consumption of fire during a stage performance?”

“It’s never happening!” Hakaze says aloud, now sprawled out on the other couch as if to keep it to himself.

“You know what everyone’s problem is?” He shoots up, “nobody wants to experiment with the advantages we have. Me and Yuuta-kun have tons of experience with these things, you know.”

“That’s not concerning.”

“Aoi-kun, please do not overwhelm our friends.”

“Ah—right, right. Sorry about that!”

Yuuta stands up again. 

“Our bad.”

“Sakuma-senpai and Hakaze-senpai like to mess with us.”

“So we have a hard time believing what they say.”

“You don't have to answer.” Hinata assures. 

Sakuma waves them away; the two leave them be, and pull away to reclaim their seats on the other couch through a lighthearted bickering match with Hakaze.

Narukami sighs. Sakuma does not let go of his hand.

“I apologize if you were meaning to lay low, I got excited at the sight of you.”

Somewhere, amidst becoming fascinated with the pace of interaction between Oogami’s bandmates, believing he can entrust him to them, and his almost baseless suspicion of Sakuma, Adonis has concluded he has an irrational, yet very mild dislike of him in particular.

Narukami blushes, a faint shade of red which had kissed his cheeks upon the flattery, gains more color by the second as he speaks.

“While I admit I find comfort in knowing we share a home, I must say that if you were seeking kinship, I will have to cut your celebration short.”

“How cold.” Sakuma still does not let go, only holds it courteously, with both hands this time, as if to say something of importance.

“Do you rebel, just like Kaoru-kun?”

Hakaze grunts.

“Believe what you want.”

“If I do not sound imposing already, may I offer some advice?”

“Just leave him alone, will you? You’ll scare him.”

“I cannot help but to dote—there is warmth in his energy, you know? If that were to falter, my heart would break.”

Hakaze makes a face. “Don't be so dramatic.”

“I want to protect his love.” He says, and it makes Adonis tense. “I want to protect the feeling he knows right now, I want to preserve it.”

“Sakuma-senpai is getting mushy…”

Hinata only covers Yuuta’s ears.

“So overbearing,” Hakaze comments, unimpressed by the reason, “aren't you embarrassed to say things like that? He’s a stranger.”

“When it comes to matters as important as this, trivial things like getting acquainted do not become a concern.”

Narukami shifts, Sakuma touches his shoulder.

“Please do not forget your ground.” He continues.

“My ground?”

“The illusion is nice, let it shape you and it will blind you.”

“I’m not-”

“Anchor yourself.”

Narukami watches his face for a moment, takes his hand back. It is then Sakuma finally reads his discomfort.

“My apologies.”

“It’s fine.”

“Do you live by the sea?”

“We do.” He answers, it makes Sakuma shift his attention to Adonis.

Adonis is not sure what to say, if he should even speak at all. Sakuma’s gaze does not make him nervous, but makes him think of the contrast between his stage presence and the attitude he displays right now.

Sakuma is vague, and it is unsettling. But his intentions with Narukami are clear, and it is because of that, he cannot place where this distrust stems from.

He has heard UNDEAD sing of darkness and no restraints, yet the member in front of him could coddle his own without a second of hesitation.

There is no dishonesty, Adonis is aware of the persona he wears, but there is a lack of something he cannot name, he does not know how to.

It irritates him.

Sakuma smiles, closes his eyes and leans back.

“I understand.”

Oogami returns, kicks the door open before anyone can question Sakuma’s conclusion.

Aware he had just walked in on something, Oogami furrows his brows and looks around for some sort of explanation. He squints, shrugs and hands out the bottles of cool beverages he had purchased in his leave.

He has one for everyone, and it comes as a pleasant surprise.

“Oogami-senpai? Being nice?”

“Don't get it confused. I knew you guys were just gonna complain if I didn't get you anything.”

Sakuma rests his drink against his cheek while Hakaze opens his.

“Its nice to see you being considerate though, Koga-kun. I'm not the touchy-feely type, but you if want a pat on the head, I’ll be nice just this once.”

Oogami scoffs, “Do you ever shut up, Hakaze?” He shoves his hands in his pockets once they are no longer full. “...-Senpai. S’not necessary but thanks, I guess. Whatever.”

“Baby steps.”

Narukami gets to his feet without a word, grips his drink tightly before he sets it down and gives a look to Adonis; he stands as well.

“I think it’s time Adonis and I take our leave—it was nice meeting you all, I hope I can attend another one of your concerts soon.”

“Already? We didn't even get to talk much-”

“I'm sorry, I’m suddenly not feeling very well.”

“Oh… nothing we can do about that, then. I’ll walk you guys out.”

Narukami only takes hold of Adonis’s hand and hurries out. Adonis can only follow, watch as the other members murmur in confusion and Oogami trail right behind him.

Oogami watches them load into Adonis’s truck.

“Oogami, I will text you later.”

“Don't think I’ll ever get used to you sayin’ that.”

“While I am struggling, I will do my best to grow accustomed to this form of communication. For our sake.”

He snorts, still touched. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I will be fine.”

“Right. Think I’m gonna go watch the rest of that concert now, later—and feel better, you.” He casts a glance at Narukami, who is still attentive enough to smile and wave in return.

Adonis drives off within moments, can hear a relieved sigh over the play of the radio.

He does not know why Narukami is frantic, but he is worried all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when u tryna show out to ur homeboy but the squad decides to cook u in front of him and his date
> 
> also kaoru was googling himself


	10. Chapter 10

His walk into the house is slow in pace, and all of Adonis’s questions go unanswered as he stays by his side. He does not mind it, the silence, but knowing he cannot be of proper support at the moment only brings more concern.

“Narukami, please-”

“I am nervous.” He admits, “that is all.”

“Then, should I run a bath?”

He does not respond, but Adonis moves as if he did. He takes off his jacket and tosses it aside, makes his way to the bathroom to prepare the tub.

Narukami joins him moments later, undoes his pants and wriggles out of them without a word. Adonis keeps his gaze low for a shell of a reason, and Narukami has it in him to laugh at his modesty before he lightly kicks them into a corner, and discards of his shirt as well.

He climbs in while the tub still fills, and Adonis seats himself on the floor beside it. He soon feels a ghost of a tail above the top of his head.

“Was it something Sakuma-san said?”

“It bothered me.” He leans back, “I don’t like people like that, who talk to me like they know me—and the way he said everything, too, like some bad omen.”

He turns off the water himself, and closes his eyes.

“Now, I’m exhausted, irritated, and a little anxious,” he exhales, “it’s all his fault.”

“You should rest.”

“Do you know what he meant by what he said?”

“I assumed it was something not meant for me to understand, so I thought nothing of it.”

“I can't stop thinking about it.”

“Rest.”

He slips his hand out over the edge of the tub, reaches for Adonis’s.

Adonis takes hold of it, and their fingers entwine loosely, just to appreciate the touch.

“I don't want to.”

“Are you still feeling uneasy?”

“A little.”

“I’ll make tea-”

“Stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Adonis.”

“Yes?”

“I want to be embraced.”

Adonis is numb to everything in this moment leave for the feeling of hesitance and uncertainty, cannot even look the other in the eye but still holds his hand as if grasping it will convey everything he finds so hard to say right now.

“It’s in times like these where people are embraced, isn't it? If you were to hold me, I would feel secure.”

He cannot say anything to that, but his heart throbs like he should. How instinctive it is to be self-effacing does not surprise him, but the craving to be the security Narukami ponders about is so strong it is hard to think.

So he does not think.

He joins him in the tub, as smoothly as this small space will allow.

Adonis is void of rational thoughts to voice, especially when the water so lukewarm seeps into his pants and makes his body tense, roughens his skin, and reminds him this was not the best way to go about responding. Narukami only watches him with patience, watches him like he will witness some plan unfold, but Adonis is so dumbfounded by the executive decision his body had made before his mind could process something smarter that the two end up staring back at each other, unsure who should move next.

Adonis moves back as far as he can to the other end of the tub, legs spread and knees bent he opens his arms to look welcoming. It only makes Narukami laugh.

“You are not good with setting moods.”

“I am not familiar with moods that require an embrace like this.”

“Does this make me your first?”

“It does.”

Narukami moves closer now, climbs right onto Adonis until there is minimal space between them. Water from the tub sloshes out onto the tiled floor in response to the carelessness, but neither of them pay any mind. Adonis waits for Narukami to make the next move, waits for his arms to drape over his shoulders, and wrap around snugly before he does the same to waist.

He makes sure to be comfortable and firm, and with how tensely Narukami holds him he has confidence in that.

To be like this—right here and now—is kind of thrilling.

Elation floods his chest and send his arms into a tremble, shake the breath of his exhale. This embrace becomes a fierce tug at the seams of his composure, and pushes him into rapture.

Embarrassment stings when he puts his face in the crook of Narukami’s neck, but the desire to cling tighter, longer, was far too overwhelming to fight. Narukami presses upward, and Adonis is made aware of his bare chest against the wet shirt that conceals his own, the water he sits in, and how soaked his clothes are.

“Adonis…”

“Yes?”

“I like this.” He runs his fingers over the hairs of his nape, “I feel like I could cry—is that odd?”

“A little.”

He pauses, “a good odd, though, right?”

“Yes.”

He sighs.

“Adonis, did you know, that we were only ever this close when I closed my eyes?”

“Narukami…”

“Ah… That’s a bit shameful to admit, isn't it?”

He does not answer.

“Still, it feels nice to say.”

He is certain Narukami can feel it, how harshly his heart pounds. He wonders if that alone is what drives him to say such things. 

His body aches with fondness for him; he does not want to let go. Narukami presses into him again, shudders in his hold, and he prays that in this moment they are bounded by the same mixture of emotions that urges them not to part.

“I want to sleep… I do not want to sleep.” A murmur in his chest.

“You should.” He murmurs back.

“Then, can I be selfish right now, and ask something of you?”

“What is it?”

“A kiss.” He looks up at him, just to say it clearer. “I want a kiss, so that the feeling of you still lingers when you’re no longer in my arms.”

“...”

“Mmh… I really said it,” he hides his face, “How embarrassing.”

Adonis only turns enough for his lips to touch the side of his head. Taken by the act, Narukami pulls away to look at him red-faced with eyes wide. His smile carries relief when he cups his face, and with compulsion Adonis does the same.

Their lips touch and move on their own accord. Their path to each other shaky and slow, feverish and quick. Faulty. Graceless. Inept. Virgin. Perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Any concerns dissipate within his own heat, all thoughts cease while his body soars and his heart jumps to his ears.

All he feels against his lips is blissful energy, thoughtful and kind, gracious and thankful. He draws back, he pulls forward. He exhales, he inhales, He parts, he closes, and turns and tilts and twists and lives—

It is when Narukami huffs away from his lips to draw another breath in a sharp gasp, reconnects them eagerly, he starts to feel the tears that trickle over his fingers.


	11. Chapter 11

“Gimme a thousand kisses, then a hundred. Then another thousand, then a second hundred. Then yet another thousand, followed by a hundred—then, when we have counted up many thousands, we’ll jumble ‘em all up, so that we can’t know, and no mh… ma, mali...maleeg-”

“ _Malign._ ”

“Malign! And no malign evil-wisher can envy us, when he knows how many kisses we have enjoyed.”

“Well, that was pretty straightforward.”

Tenma slams his book closed and squeezes his eyes shut, puts his hands on the sides of his head as if to squeeze it too.

“Tomo-chan! Why’d you have to go and make me read that? It’s embarrassing!”

“Don't be a child.”

“It’s all lovey-dovey! And do you know how many kisses that’s gotta be? Like a million!”

“That’s the point, Mitsuru!” A sigh, “try to take this seriously, okay? This isn't the only homework assignment we have today-”

“Ado-chan-senpai, I’m thirsty.”

“ _Mitsuru._ ”

Adonis looks up from the phone he has been fidgeting with for the past half hour and sets it down. The two high schoolers watch him expectantly from the counter stools in his kitchen as he eases off the couch in his living room to fix them something.

His chest hurts.

Last night can play out vividly in his head, with the cost of more emotional exhaust.

Narukami had left.

Last night, he allowed him to fall asleep in his arms, stayed with him for a time he could not measure, until he had it in himself to get to his own bed. He had done things not done before, things he was not familiar with. And it never mattered to him, not until he was able to share that first experience and realize how much it meant. 

While he is not sick, he does not feel his best.

He feels uncomfortable and strange; Narukami had disappeared by the time morning came, and he yearns, but does not yet have that sense of loss.

No anger, no sadness. Only confusion and ache.

His chest hurts.

Tenma pulls up his backpack to grab a snack from it, and watches as Adonis moves to the fridge.

“I get it though, Tomo-chan,” he starts, the plastic wrap crinkling, “this guy just wants a lot of love, no? It’s a confession.”

“It’s more than that,” he picks at the binding of his textbook with the tip of his pencil, “it’s like—he wants to drown out all the negativity from jealous people, and just live in a world full of love with, y’know, the person he loves.”

Tenma stuffs his face with bread.

“A world with millions of kisses.”

“Yeah, a world with millions of kisses.”

Adonis tears open the top of a box, and places two cool pouches of juice in front of them.

“Juice?”

“Otogari-san… this is kind of-”

“I want a soda!”

“What’s wrong with this? It’s all natural fruit juice—with added vitamin C.”

“But the designs, they’re very-”

“Cute?”

“Childish.”

Tenma nods. “Yeah, yeah! We’re not kids, you know!”

“We’re growing men, actually.” His friend adds, “we should have a drink that fits that image.”

“Like soda.”

Adonis rubs his chin and contemplates his new understandings, “I see. Then, would a cup of tea be more of a refined drink for you, Tomoya?”

“Yes please!”

“ _Soda._ ”

Adonis only pats the boy’s head with a shake of his own, then sets the box down. 

“I bought these specifically for Tenma, I thought they would be appealing. The colors are bright, and the characters printed on pouches are silly and endearing.” 

“Ado-chan-senpai, I don't like things like that!”

“Sad.”

He sticks his hand in, and pulls out two paper sheets in a thin plastic casing, holds them up.

“They also came with stickers-”

A gasp. 

“Stickers?”

“Otogari-san, um, just a second-”

Tenma reaches over the counter and stretches in an attempt to snatch them from his grasp with a hurried _Kidding! I was kidding, lemme see!_

He hands them over and Tenma wastes no time ripping the package open and helping himself to the stickers inside.

Adonis shakes his head at that, and gets started on the tea. While Tomoya seems no longer interested, a cup still sounded nice to him.

“I don't wanna do this any more,” Tenma dresses his face in sticky fruit shapes, “how are we supposed to get two pages of summary out of something so cheesy?”

“It’s not cheesy! It’s romantic.”

“Then you write the essay since it’s so easy to you; I’ll just rewrite whatever you put.”

Tomoya decorates his binder with an apple sticker, “I never said that! And Mitsuru, don’t be stupid, that’s cheating.”

“Power through, Tenma.” Adonis says from the stove.

He whines in response, and digs his forehead into the cover of his book.

“It’s too hard… They shouldn't make us write about this. I've never even been in love, we’re just kids, you know?”

“Don't be so contradicting—and speak for yourself.”

“Tomo-chan, have you been in love before?”

“I have…”

He sits up and looks at him as if he had not heard him right.

“Really?”

“Why are you so shocked? It’s not weird.” 

Tenma still hums in surprise, leans forward to rest his cheek in his palm.

“Tomo-chan, you look super manly right now.”

“Shut up.” 

Tenma laughs and reopens his textbook. While Adonis preps his mug and waits for his water, another curious question springs up as he watches him.

“Senpai—what about you?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been in love, right?”

“I might have.”

“Yes or no?”

“Drink your juice.”

He unwraps his straw with a pout and punctures his pouch before sipping passively. Adonis goes back to making his tea.

“Ado-chan-senpai is keeping secrets.” He mumbles.

“Aren't you ashamed to be asking personal questions like that?”

“Ado-chan-senpai’s like my brother, it’s okay to get personal.”

Tomoya nibbles on his own straw in pause, then squints.

“If that’s the case, how come you don't refer to him as one?”

“That’s ‘cause he gets real sappy when I do, so I don’t.”

“Oh? Otogari-san, is that true?”

“I disagree.”

“Nope, nope. Totally sappy.” Tenma holds his face, sways about, “he’s like: ‘ _Ooh,_ Tenma, it makes me so happy you see me as a brother figure. I’d hug you but you’re so tiny, _ahh_.’ And then he starts crying and spoils me for weeks.”

“That’s a bold lie, Tenma.”

“I never lie, you know.” Is all that comes out through muffled snickers. Tomoya flicks Tenma head, fiercely stifles his own as he chides him for being immature.

He swats his friend’s hand away as he seems struck with a sudden idea. 

“Ado-chan,” Tenma says now, waves Adonis closer and leans over the counter again. “Can I ask our friend?”

“Friend?”

Tenma looks at Tomoya before he shoots Adonis a hard look, like he means to jog his memory without saying a word. He nods in the direction of his bathroom and repeats himself.

“Our _friend._ ”

“Ah,” Adonis turns off the stove, “he’s not here.”

His face falls at that; Tomoya looks between the two with confusion.

“Where’d he go, then?”

“Back home.” He says that, but he is not certain.

“Oh…” Tenma falls back into his seat. “He’ll be back though, right? For our purée date?”

“Can't say. If he does, I’ll make sure to let you know.”

Tenma makes a dissatisfied noise, but accepts the response.

Adonis says nothing more and fills his mug,—water hardly warm—throws his spoon in, and starts towards his bedroom.

“Finish your homework. There’s food in the fridge if you’re still hungry, so help yourselves.”

“Does that mean I can have-”

“No soda.”

Tomoya drags his attention back to their work before he can argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the poem mitsuru recites is [Catullus 5](http://www.ancientromerefocused.org/tag/a-thousand-kisses/)
> 
> i thought that specific part was rly cute i keep it for insp
> 
> i also hc mitsuru as being really bad with super sugary things like u give him a pepsi and it's Game Over. the fizzy drinks are sealed away for our protection, not his


	12. Chapter 12

Adonis is filled with an urge to wrap himself up in the blankets of his bed and not move, wallow in the feelings he has yet to fully identify until he falls asleep.

He suppresses that, knows fully well he will be trapped in a mood he cannot escape if he gives in.

He wonders how he could handle it if he did though, wonders what that would make of him.

Perhaps he may have done something to encourage Narukami’s leave.

But finding where the fault lies does nothing about the peculiar feeling he gets from all this. It would not give reason for the constant , back-and-forth shift between thinking he is fine, and being hit with yet another spell of dejection.

If—for a moment, he thinks—he were to disregard everything, and forget all that has happen until now, would that spare him heartbreak?

Adonis is not sure if he is justified in doing so. 

He finds himself beneath the sheets of his bed in spite of what he told himself prior. He cannot deny its appeal. And while he buries his face into the pillows, all he can recall is the day he was able to share this space.

The memory pricks, and he feels the weight in his head. Everything he felt that morning comes back in ripples, slight tremors that have him grip his comforter just to calm down. He misses Narukami, that he can state for certain. There can be no other cause for the persistent strain in his chest, the welling of heat in his throat. Adonis closes his eyes, and for only a few seconds does the tension in his chest fade.

He could cry, but knowing that is what stops him.

So he sleeps, regardless of plans. He sleeps because he is fine.

And this feeling will pass, like a wavelet he will settle and find calm.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

His boat rocking against the rolling waves of the sea create a rhythm so soothing, it could lull him to sleep if he was careless. The sky is clear, and the only thought in his head is conscious of the distance between him and the shore.

Adonis can think properly now, though this decision was made entirely on emotions, anything he does right now is rational.

Except for turning back, he will not do that, no matter how absurd this feels.

Adonis distracts himself with the rubber strap of the goggles in his hands. The wetsuit he wears is too snug, but the effort he went through to obtain it will have him bear it.

It was embarrassing, the way he went about trying to rent it, so abrupt and with blatant haste. He barely followed Kanzaki’s instructions on how to put it on, barely managed through his little series of questions about his sudden interest with swimming. He is completely unaware of Adonis’s ridiculous desperation to find a creature he may never see again.

And to admit that, that he is desperate, is more shameful than it is painful.

Adonis will remember to thank his friend properly, after he gets past this.

“Young friend, tell me where I may have seen you before.”

The voice has Adonis more alert. Head snapping from one side to the other, he moves to a standing position, follows the sound of shifting water until he spots a fin in the corner of his eye.

Then a tail—black scales shimmer in the light of the sun when they appear at the surface, mingle with a deep red which bleeds up, down, and around them with mosaic-like swirls so intense the contrast with the pale skin above it makes it hard to look away.

The creature gets closer, right at the side of his boat. Adonis can do nothing but look down at it, too choked up by his own hesitation to speak.

His eyes are vibrant but that is something Adonis is used to. They smile, show good will, and he instantly calms.

“Sakuma-san.”

“Hmm…” 

His fingers—long and thin—move hair behind his shoulder with a gentle sweep, and he reads him.

“So we have met?”

“Just the other night-”

The smile falters only a little when it is overtaken by a small gape, then quickly restored as he nods.

“Ah, ‘Adonis’-kun, was it?”

“Yes.”

He laughs. “Forgive me, the sun has melted my native wit. At the moment, the only thing I can do is wade about in the shade,” He yawns, “I am in need of sleep. But I will not fall victim to it just yet.”

“Does the sun make you sick?”

“Absolutely. I loathe it and its bright rays. I am a creature of the night, you see.”

Adonis takes on a cautious stance; it makes him smile. He circles his boat.

“But what brings you to my home, Adonis? The Adonis. Companion of my companion. My fellow’s fellow.”

“Why do you give me such titles?”

“Do they amuse you?”

“Not at all.”

Sakuma covers his face.

“Ah, so cruel… so cold, I could cry.”

Adonis sits again once he senses the mockery in those words, waits for Sakuma to finish his act before he speaks again.

“Why are you here?”

“How bold. To not even respond to the question I asked first… I have more of a right to be here than you, do I not?”

“I meant—” he tenses, unsure if he has offended, “the band. Oogami. Why haven't you left?”

“Oh,” Sakuma stops in place to lie onto his back, “The others have went off without us. I simply wanted a proper soaking before I leave.” He admits.

Then, in musing: “I often forget how nicely my tail shines in the sea, it is a sign she has missed me, no? When the wretched sun falls, I will be completely rejuvenated.” 

“‘Us’?”

“Tell me why you are here, now. Why does your boat sit in the middle of waters?”

“I am looking for someone.”

“Someone,” he repeats, “does this someone have you distressed? I can see the sorrow on your face. It is a sad look, one that tugs my heart in a way that compels me to embrace you.”

Sakuma gets off his back to face him properly, and hold out his arms wide.

“Come, rest your head against my chest. Let my warmth be the fire that thaws away all ill-feeling. Replace your pain with my love, child, and your hurt will be no more.”

Adonis only shakes his head.

“Sakuma-san, while I appreciate the sentiment, I will refrain from doing so.”

He puts his arms down before he sighs.

“Rejection is a fiendish mistress with eyes for me today, it seems.”

Sakuma lowers himself into the water until his eyes alone remain above the surface. He circles Adonis’s boat again.

Adonis decides to lie back as he does, no longer threatened by or wary of his presence. This creature is simply an odd one, nothing more.

When Sakuma makes his way to the other side, he lifts his head up, splashes water into the boat to get his attention.

“Then, that someone, is it the one who is like me?”

Adonis does not answer.

“He clung to you quite tightly that night, you know. How could you have possibly let him go?”

“He up and left.” He confesses, voice quiet.

“Oh dear, that gloomy look has made home onto your face once again. Are you sure you do not want to be held?”

“...”

Sakuma faces away from him.

“Do you believe it to be what I had said?”

He nods, and the other senses the response.

“For me to have caused you this much trouble… You cared for him, did you not?”

Adonis sits up and waits for the pang in his chest to subside.

“I did.”

“I apologize. I did not intend to influence such a rash decision.”

“Sakuma-san, I only want to know why he left.”

Sakuma clasps his hands together.

“If that is the case, I will help you find him.”

“That isn't necessary.”

“But I insist.”

“If I can, I would like to do this on my own.”

“I see… Then, I will leave you to it.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

He moves away from the boat now, then stops as if he has forgotten something.

“Adonis-kun, remember not to stay out too late. It is not only me who truly lives when the moon rises.” He warns, “with the help of the darkness and the sea, we gain the strength of hundreds—no, thousands of men. For you to still be here when I transform, it will be very troublesome.”

“I am aware.” 

Before Sakuma can swim off, the two turn their attention to the loud series of splashes done by the work of single tail, and a body cutting through the water at a speed fast enough to raise Adonis’s guard again.

But when a head finally pokes up from the water, reveals a grinning face, any concern from either of them is cast away.

“Kaoru-kun, what-”

“Some creep in a dingy little boat was taking pictures of me.” He says between pants, “Jumped up and snatched the camera from his hands—check it.”

Hakaze holds up the item in mention, takes its strap and places it around his neck.

“He may have followed you here, you know.”

“No way, I totally lost him.” He shakes his head, “this thing is mine now, say ‘cheese’.”

Any remnants of an oncoming scolding completely disappear when Hakaze points the camera at him. Sakuma poses, smiles with dainty hands bridging beneath his chin and angles his face after each flash.

Adonis tries to speak over their silly behavior, concerned over the fact Hakaze really has been followed. While tries his best to resolve conflict, he is not the best at handling it.

Then, he hears it. 

The faint hum of a running motor that grows louder and louder until it catches the attention of the other two.

“You there! Right there, yes you!”

“Ah… Kanzaki?”

He does not answer, his boat ripping through the water as he draws closer and finally stops before them.

Kanzaki, face red and confused, looks between him and Hakaze, as if he does not know who to address first. His shirt is soaked and his hair—which had always been tied up in a tight tail—falls freely at his shoulders. Adonis can only assume a look like this was caused by Hakaze, and the small fight he must have put up to try and get his camera back.

“Ado— _hey_.” He catches Hakaze in the act of hiding the camera behind him. Despite that, Hakaze still feigns ignorance, still tries to distance himself from the boat.

“What you have is a professional waterproof camera.” He states, “Property of the University of Yumenosaki, return it at once!”

“Don't wanna.”

“Kanzaki, calm down.”

“And you!” He points at him, “I was certain I told you that if you were to make plans to dive, let me know! As someone who has not worn a wetsuit before, you should at least be supervised.”

“I-”

“Stay right there, Adonis-dono, once I have settle things with this creature here, I will come and assist you.”

Hakaze attacks the capture button on the camera, the sound of the shutter lens and its flash sudden enough to take Kanzaki by surprise and distract him while he attempt to swim off. Sakuma stops him, however, takes the camera from his hands in spite of the protest.

He swims over to Kanzaki’s boat, and hands over the device.

“It seems my friend here did not take kindly to being included in your little photoshoot.”

“Ah…that’s…” He takes it, places it back into the boat as Hakaze huffs. He turns away, not wanting to watch the conversation.

“He is entitled to his privacy, just as you are to yours. The sea is not something that changes such things, you know.”

“You are right,” Kanzaki says quickly, embarrassment evident on his face. “I saw him and got excited-”

“Gross.”

“I _apologize_.” He shoots Hakaze a glare.

Sakuma only smiles.

“Now that this has been settled, I am sure if you ask Kaoru-kun for his permission to take his photo, he would give it.”

Kanzaki nods, “Then, if you would not mind it-”

“You can only take photos of me out of water.” He crosses his arms.

“On land? But that would defeat the purpose—you would look like an ordinary person.”

Hakaze frowns, but does not look at him. He mumbles something Adonis cannot make out before he retracts his permission altogether.

“I change my mind.”

“But-”

“I said forget it.” Mood sour, Hakaze slips into the water to swim off. The teal and beige scales that array his tail gleam for seconds, then disappear.

Sakuma sighs, and Kanzaki looks unsure as to what he has done.

“If we give him time to himself to cool off, he will be fine.” Is what he announces, then turns to Kanzaki.

“Perhaps I can take his place?”

Kanzaki fumbles with his camera as he nods vigorously.

“Yes, yes—please. Ah, Adonis-dono, I will only be a few moments, please continue to wait.”

Sakuma ushers him to some other area before Adonis can respond. Kanzaki turns on his boat again, and follows his direction.

While his back is turned, Sakuma gives Adonis a final look, puts a finger to his lips and quietly shoos him elsewhere.

He understands.

And when the two are far enough, Adonis returns his anchor back on board, and starts off. Not having forgotten the reason he brought himself out here today.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _if weeeeeeee, tried that we could beeeeeeee—_

The sun will fall any minute, and Adonis still remains at sea. He cannot say he is prepared for what will come when the moon takes its place, but if he has to, he will endure it.

It is foolish to feel such a way, to say such a thing. It is why he grows anxious, why the urge to go back home weighs heavy.

It would be easy to ask himself what drives him, and blame some inexplicable instinctive desire as he follows it, but Adonis is well aware now. And that knowledge brings a sharp, cool rush of adrenaline through his veins. It excites him and scares him all at once, and if only he could see Narukami one more time, could have everything he has ever felt with him just flood back in a single surge. If that were to happen, Adonis is certain he would be able to spend the rest of his days alone.

Because this makes him happy in a way he hopes to never have to explain.

Happy, terrified, and thrilled.

He contemplates putting on his goggles and diving in, just to see if he has a better chance, but with nightfall coming soon he stays put, and will be more caution than he ever has before.

This is an act of passion, Adonis can call himself a passionate person. Everything that brings him here, has him feel heat at his very core, is a result of unbridled feelings, and he likes that.

Adonis, stoic and reserved, is now spirited and nervous, and he finds that to be a good thing, or rather, simply knowing someone could make him feel this way, is a good thing. This vulnerability rivals the constant need to exhibit strength, and the only way he can justify it is to just believe that it is stronger than him, that way, he can maybe admire it.

Then he sees him.

The way he slips out of the water—hesitantly, as if he could change his mind and dash off somewhere. The expression he wears reads of guilt, and the look stings.

He is not sure of what to do now, which makes him question his own mental state.

To want something badly, then lose any ability to process thought, has to be the most ridiculous thing.

So he stares at him dumbly, knows that even if he knew what to say, it would not matter if Narukami chooses not to listen.

“The blond from that night,” he starts, Adonis feels a bit of relief. “He passed me and said you were here.”

“...”

“I’m sorry for leaving like I did—I was hoping you wouldn't do this,” he continues, “you’d find yourself in big trouble if you stay any longer.”

He knows that, has known that for a while, and does not need to be told again. Why this particular warning makes his ears ring and his heart race he does not know. Once again, he finds himself acting without thinking.

“I can live without you.” 

It comes out hurried, choked, and when the other flinches in surprise at such a response, Adonis wishes those words could sear his throat shut, so that he cannot speak another word.

Perhaps it may have been the joint work of fear and his own pride freed from chains of modesty determined to rid of any false assumptions, because the last thing he would want right now, is for Narukami to misunderstand.

He cannot misunderstand.

So when he smiles, Adonis is a bit glad to say he thinks he will not.

“It’s sad, isn't it? I got overwhelmed and ran away.”

“Did I scare you?”

He shakes his head.

“Adonis-chan,” he says, and oddly enough, Adonis senses distance, “Adonis-chan, I’m happy with what you’ve given me.”

“Narukami-”

“I can still feel it,” he taps his lips, cheeks pink, “when your lips touched mine. The feelings come back when I think of you.”

Something wells up in his throat, and his neck begins to ache. Adonis cannot bring himself to respond.

“A while back, I starting thinking to myself: ‘I want to treasure this man.’ And I could not place why a pitiful feeling made my chest so heavy when I couldn’t be near you.” Adonis can tell he tries so hard to fight the quiver in his voice and the tears that threaten to spill. He tries to understand, but closing the distance between them is the only thing that makes sense right now.

“I’ve been able to experience so much with you, and—ah, don't look down on me for crying in front of you, I don't know how else to calm down.” He wipes his cheek, “I wanted to tell you that I love you.”

Adonis cannot breathe.

“I love you, truly and dearly. You make me feel as if I could scream those words and there would still be no way to measure how much.” And he laughs at that, even though his tears fall freely now, they spill with hinted happiness and relief.

“But—you see, I love the sea, too. I can't abandon her and stay by your side in a state like this. So, for right now—”

He does not wait for him to finish. Adonis finds himself climbing off his boat and swimming out to him.

Crying is not something that suits him, the last time he had done so burdened his mind with thoughts of weakness and shame. He believed if he could help it, he would not subject himself to such a condition.

This time, however, is different. This time, he will allow it.

When he is close enough, he reaches out to hold him. Narukami lets himself into his arms.

Holding him this close feels nicer than the last time he got to, and Adonis, who is only strong enough to whisper back: _I love you, too,_ gets a tighter embrace in return.

“I feel as if I should give myself to you, and expect the same in return. But that’s too much, right? It’s too sudden.” He hums, “this is no good… I don't want to let go.”

“You don't have to.”

“Don't say things like that.”

“I love you.”

The sun begins to set when he pulls away to hold his face. It is then he is aware of how light the sea makes him feel, how there is this heavy sense of calm that pools at the pit of his stomach as the waves have them bob in silence.

The impending threat of what is to come hits him before the look of worry on Narukami’s face does.

He kisses him quickly, hastily presses their lips together and Adonis does not have to question why. He relishes these few moments. Beyond either’s control, their kiss, it shakes and spills with the love they could not convey with words. Threaded with both the delicacy and desire they possess so earnestly, it becomes a gesture worthy enough to cherish for years to come. Their tears long gone and washed away by the sea that coddles them so.

Narukami pulls away again, sighs in an attempt to distance himself.

“When I am able to collect myself, and become an anchored individual, will you still be here?”

“If you want me to wait-”

“That’s too much to ask of you-”

“-I will. I will wait.”

He nods at that, will not fight it.

“Then wait for me.” He tells him in an exhale, smile returning, “wait for me, and I’ll be by your side again.”

His promise is silent but received. Narukami rubs his face as Adonis grips his boarding ladder and climbs onto his boat again.

“We will see each other very soon.” He assures.

“Mmh, it’s not the same, though.”

“I still look forward to it.”

“Then so will I.”

“I love you.”

“Do you mean to taunt me? To say such a thing when you’re already so far… Say it again Adonis, shout it until you reach the shore.”

He starts his boat.

“I love you.”

“Again!”

“I love you!”

“Once more!”

Adonis cups his mouth, “I—ah, Narukami, if I keep up this display, the neighbors will think I’ve gone mad.”

It is faint, but he can hear him laugh.

The other settles for waving instead, blowing occasional kisses through air in a way so warm it makes his own heart soar.

He heads home, and it feels as if the waters carry him, as if his body is still submerged.

There is security in that, comfort, he could say.

It is because of that, he starts to ponder if he can truly like something he has been impassive towards for years. Because Adonis had never cared for the sea, had never been grateful to be this close to it.

It can become something that moves him, though, like it has for so many, something he can hold dear.

Just like he has come to love Narukami, he will come to love the sea as well.

It is what he truly thinks, what he believes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin--
> 
> aaaaaaa if u made it this far thank u for taking the time to read this i hope yall enjoyed it as much as i had fun writing!!


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